


Spite

by Rosechyld



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Bisexual Male Courier, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Work In Progress, other characters added as introduced
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 53,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22782679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosechyld/pseuds/Rosechyld
Summary: Surviving against all odds is usually considered luck, but when you don't believe in luck, spite will do.
Relationships: Craig Boone/Male Courier
Comments: 23
Kudos: 53





	1. Firelight

Boone poked at the fire, watching the sparks pop and crackle into the sky. Been a while since he’d had to camp under the stars. Been a while since he’d been outside during the day. Not that he did all that much sleeping anymore. Almost to Boulder City. He hadn’t even bothered to ask why. The man who had offered him the job hadn’t offered the information, and that was fine with him. He didn’t really care why they were going, so long as it wasn’t towards the arms of the Legion. Boone was pretty sure he hadn’t even asked his name. Didn’t really matter. Kid didn’t seem to be much more inclined to talking then he was. That suited him just fine.

The fire hissed, as did the one setting the log into it, “Fuck, not dry ’nough,” shaking his head as he sat down, folding long, lean legs beneath him. “ You’d think would be dry as shit in’a desert. Perimeter’s set.”

  
Boone nodded, glancing up from the fire long enough to see the cowboy hat dip down into a can of, what ever it was. Didn’t matter. He lowered his gaze back to the fire, watching the thick smoke pour off of the not-quite-dry enough piece of wood that had been added.

  
“Mmh, ‘eyh,” caused his eyes to flick back up across from him in time to hear, “Catch,” and instinctively reached out for the item tossed his way. He wrapped his hand around the solid, cool metal of a can, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Beets, I think. Ever the fuck those’er, anyway. Still good tho’, so’m not complainin. Knife?”

  
Boone shook his head, reaching into his pocket, “Thanks,” and pulled out his own pocket knife. Carla had called it a Swiss Army when she'd given it to him. He turned the scratched pearl handle over in his hand before flicking it open and getting to work popping open the can in his hand.  
They ate in relative silence, and the.. beets, weren’t as terrible as Boone had been expecting. Most of the old canned stuff was varying shades of grey and lumpy, but beggars usually couldn’t be choosers. The stuff in the can wasn’t completely grey, more a darkish pink, and had a slight tang to them that said they’d probably been pickled, originally. The silence lasted until the kid had finished eating and pulled out a harmonica. Boon didn’t recognize the song, but he wasn’t really one for music. It wasn’t terrible though. Reflexively he found himself looking up from his food to watch. 

It took him exactly four blinks to adjust to the shift in light, and the fact that the kid had finally taken off the cowboy hat. Boone watched as the kid set it on his knee, and let his eyes flick over the features of the man he’d agreed to travel with for the first time. He hadn’t bothered to try before, wasn’t interested. What he saw threw him off guard.

  
The kid was bald. No. Only half bald, shaved down the middle. Parted to the right side. Auburn. Looked thick, almost wine dark in the firelight. Long and curling slightly from sweat. That wasn't really all that shocking. What was shocking was on the shaved side. Scar tissue, fresh, still healing. Maybe a month out or more, but not much beyond. It extended from eyebrow back, jagged and mean. Wider and more raw closer to where the hairline aught to be. As if someone had stitched the mans head back together.

  
Before he could stop himself, Boone felt himself say, “The fuck you survive a gunshot to the head?”

  
The music stopped, and a laugh came from the other man, deep and genuine in its surprise. When he was done he wiped at the corner of his eyes and gave Boone a huge grin. One that said he genuinely enjoyed the laugh he’d had. “Spite, most like. Doc said luck.”  
Boone didn’t believe in luck, “Boulder City huh?”

  
“Only lead I got, other then some used smokes and’a checkered suit.”

  
Boone felt himself sneer, “Checkered Suit.. Vegas fuck probably.”

  
The kid, no not really a kid. Now that Boone had actually looked, the man didn’t seem nearly as young as he'd originally thought. Younger then him, probably late 20's, but hardly as green as he'd figured. Broader in the shoulders, and taller for sure, but most were. Never really bothered him. But the kid had nodded an acknowledgement, “Vegas fuck prob’bly. But, all signs point to Boulder, so it’s where I’m headin.”

  
Boone nodded in return. Survived out of spite. Find the fuck who shot you, and shoot back. He could respect that, "Fair enough." After a few moments he decided to speak again, “Want me to get first watch?”

  
“Nah it’s good. Get a wink if you can, I’ll yell if there’s trouble.”

  
Boone nodded again. Let himself fall back against the ground, pulling his beret over his face to block out the light from the fire. As he shifted, trying to get as comfortable as he could against the cold ground, it dawned on him a second time that he still didn’t even know what the kids name was. He must have said it aloud though cause another chuckle came from across the way, “Fuck if I know.. paperwork says Mikael, so.. call me Mik, I guess.”

  
“Alright, Mik.” Boone grumbled from under his hat, feeling the days travels finally weigh him down enough to cause him to yawn. He’d sort out what that whole statement meant in the morning, “Yell if there’s trouble”

* * *

  
Mik ran his hands through his hair, and winced. Fuck, had to remember not to rub so hard. The stubble under his palm wasn't something he was used to either. Or was it? He figured it wasn't, since it felt wrong. Touching it was still a bad idea, even after the stitches had come out. To sensitive, soft where the skull was still healing. The skin itself, the scar, didn't hurt. Didn't feel like anything, if he ran his fingers over it lightly enough. Could feel it in his fingers but not the flesh on his head. 

  
Figured that wasn't right either, but the other scars he had felt the same so he wasn't worried about it. He sighed and pulled the worn leather cowboy hat off his knee. Black leather, like the armor he'd talked the shop keep in Goodsprings to part with for the fight against the Powdergangers. Stupid name. Stupid name for stupid fucks thinkin' it was smart to mess with good, peace loving folks just tryin to make it in the wasteland.

  
The hat he'd found at the bottom of the grave he'd been stuffed in by that Checkered suit fuck who'd left him for dead. Figured it was probably his. Hopefully it hadn't belonged to the guy buried there before. Was a graveyard after all. Didn't really matter anymore, he'd decided he liked it, and on his head it went. Managed to scrounge some sun glasses from an old police station just past Primm to protect his eyes from the sun. Felt like it was something he should have, supposed to wear. Didn't feel wrong. Bout all he had to go on these days. Muscle memory and feeling. Had taken him a bit to get the handle of it all. Anything before Goodsprings was a blur at best, static like the radio when you walked to far to pick up the signal.

  
Mik slipped his hat on and stared at the fire for a while. Long while. Thinking about Goodsprings. How he wasn't sure he liked the idea of owing folks a debt, but liked the people. Liked that it felt like he'd always be welcomed to return if he wanted. How they'd let him stay as he was recovering. Treating him to dinner in the tavern. Sunny helping him remember how to trust his muscles for shooting. Then trying to not think about it, because thinking about it just pissed him off.

  
Didn't think he was the type to get angry. Didn't feel right. Sat wrong and hot in the center of his chest, spreading like poison from a rad-scorpion through his limbs. Like how he knew what a rad-scorpion's poison felt like, but not HOW he knew. Like how he didn't fucking know what his god damned name actually was. How Mikael didn't fit right at all. Didn't feel right. At least Mik wasn't terrible enough to not use. But that didn't at all help the anger. Or the headache that had been brewing for the last, fuck, he didn't even know when it hadn't been there, but he knew he remembered what not having one felt like. He needed to get up.

  
He stood and brushed the dirt off of his leather pant legs with his hands. At least his hands still worked. He could remember all sorts of useful shit like how to hold a gun and how to shoot a mans head off at 100 paces. How to gut and clean a fresh carcass. How to cook rad-scorpion tail. How to scav for meds. How to set and check perimeter traps. Which he decided he needed to check now. Because Boone was asleep. He'd hired the man to help watch his back. Least he could do was make sure the man got a half decent nights sleep. At least that much.

"Come with me, watch my back." he had said. Fuck this place into the goddamned sun had been left unspoken. He saw the anger in Boone, all wound up in every inch of the smaller man. Thick soldier's frame all twisted and coiled, ready to lash out at anyone who might dare interupt that hatred. Even behind those sunglasses, as clear as he felt the wrongness in his own. Didn't even blame the guy. Whole situation was beyond fucked. Wife sold into slavery, forced to kill her rather then leave her to be tortured and broken like a Bramin. Best friend glad she was gone.. what a fuckin great guy. With friends like that, eh?

  
He knelt down, hooking a finger into the string of the alarm he'd set. Gave it a gentle tug. Still intact. "Good." Stood and started walking, careful and painfully aware of the frag mines he'd placed down not to far from the path he was making towards the faintly glowing red lights ahead of him. Keeping a mental tally of the landmarks and where he'd placed the mines kept his busted head from wandering back into thoughts that pissed him off, twisted him up inside something fierce. Like a mama deathclaw readying itself to protect her young. 3 more paces, step left. 9 more then right for 4. 

  
Counting his steps under his breath until he was close enough to the lights that he could hear the buzzing from the eyebot hovering a handful of steps ahead. Was dark, the moon obscured behind cloud cover. If you were paying close enough attention you'd see the lights, or hear the buzz. If you were to high off your ass to do anything but head towards the campfire of some unlucky traveler with a pouch full of caps and a death wish, well.. then ED-E was plenty hard to spot.

  
He kept his voice low as he stopped next to the floating bot, giving him a gentle pat like one would a dog. It wasn't a dog, but he'd grown attached. Eddie was a good traveling companion, and sometimes even funny. How or why he could understand the cheerful beeps wasn't something he wanted to stop and think about. Was just one more thing he'd forgotten, probably. One more thing to piss him off. "All good out here?"

  
A quiet, low beep. Conformation. "Good, good. Still remember the signal?" Another quiet beep. Mik nodded and pat the eyebot again gently. "Thanks man. Gonna head back."

  
Once back at the campfire he settled down with his rifle in his lap. He let his eyes float over towards Boone, who, his lips tugging at the corners in amusement, apparently snored. Not loudly, mind. But enough that Mik could catch it over the crackle of the fire. Perhaps he let his eyes linger to long, on the curve of the sleeping mans thigh, propped up against the other. Muscle upon muscle. Taught and coiled even in rest. He blinked, shook his head. Not sure if that felt wrong or not. Sure probably woulda earned him a punch in the face for it by Boone. A full smile that time. Not even a full twenty four and the angry man had made him truly smile a full on twice. Even laugh. Hadn't laughed like that since.. hell he couldn't remember. Had to admit though, if nothin else Boone had a nice ass. Maybe it wasn't wrong. Didn't feel like it should be. Had thought Sunny in Goodsprings had a nice ass too. Maybe he was just an ass man.

Mik chuckled to himself, tearing his eyes away from the sleeping cazador next to the fire to clean his gun. Had to check, make sure it wouldn't jam. Had an appointment to keep.


	2. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I got better"

Boulder City felt... wrong.

  
Didn't quite know how he knew where the the city was, but hadn't been bothering to check road signs or the brick of metal and plastic strapped to his wrist. He just. Knew. Didn't wanna think to much about it. When he caught himself wondering the throbbing in his head not so gently reminded him that even though it wasn't as bad as it had been the previous night, it sure didn't wanna fucking try remembering. Was fine with him.

The telltale signs of Mojave at noon chirped and chattered around him, a beautiful and awful thing on the best of days. Boone quietly walking a few paces behind, footfalls and breathing the only giveaways that he was there at all. Eddie hovered a ways ahead, scouting for trouble. Every so often he'd spot something out of the corner of his eye, see Eddie hesitate, hear the quiet clicking of Boone's rifle as it rose to scope out what might be danger. Usually just ants that had wandered to close, rendered into smoking twitching piles of anguish before either man could react. Nothing to worry about. Once he'd gotten a shiver up his spine and had swung around mid step to level his rifle behind him, quickly catching Boone doing the same through the scope. A caravan a ways back. Likely Vegas bound. Had felt himself chuckle, the sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Tucked his rifle behind his shoulder and wiped the sweat out of his rapidly thickening facial hair with a hand before continuing onward. Maybe he'd shave before his appointment. 

About halfway, round about, to their destination they passed a campsite with a few travelers paused for lunch. Tipped his hat to them as they walked past. Received warm smiles and a full course of 'Afternoons!' hollered in their direction. Made him feel warm inside, felt right. Nice to see that folks were still... still? friendly enough. The sun was high in the sky when they'd starting rounding the bend. The first coals of dread started smouldering in his chest when the first few buildings came into view. He rightly couldn't remember if he'd ever been there before but.. this..

Burned out, broken, and in some places still smouldering. It wasn't no city. It was a god damned war zone. The coals in his belly broiled, the heat of the anger inside welling up enough to cause his legs to quit bothering to move as his eyes washed over the whole thing. If he had been here before, it had been before it had become a burned out husk. Most places of the old world, cities and things, didn't rightly stand up to the test of time but there had been no fucking way the wreckage in front of him wasn't pretty god damned recent.

The fuck happened here? 

He must have spoken out loud, because Boone's voice nearly sent his spirit straight to the afterlife, "Legion attack."

"Fuckin!.. Boone! Jesus Christ man. Way to scare the shit out of me," he had forgotten the man was even there for a moment. He turned to his left and caught an eye full of Red Beret. Took a moment to catch his breath before looking down. Boone had an uncharacteristic half-smile on his lips for but just the briefest of moments.

"Yuck it up, fuckface. God damned.." Let his words trail off as that half-smile returned to Boone's face. Was a good look on him. Smiling. Maybe he'd have to let him scare the shit out of him more often. Almost forgot the dread coiling up his insides for a moment or two before turning his attention back towards the husk of a city.

"Legion did this?" He asked, gesturing towards the ruins sprawled out before them.

"No. NCR."

Felt like Boone had just punched him in the gut, "NCR did this?!"

A confirmation nod from Boone and that coil of dread was back in full force. What kind of shit had the god damned army brought to his Mojave? Wait, His Mojave? Interesting. Didn't know why he felt like that, but it pissed him off just the same. After a few moments he sighed and reached to take his hat off, run his hands through his hair. Stopped about halfway through the gesture, swearing under his breath as a spike of pain lanced through his skull. Fuuuuuck. Needed to remember not to fucking do that.

A chuckle from his companion, and a worried series of beeps from Eddie caused him to replace the hat and hitch his britches up. "I'm good. Think anyone's still even around?"

"Yeah. Still Caravan Stop."

He sighed, "Alright, lets go see if these Great Khan motherfuckers' are still kickin around then."

* * *

Half dozen steps into the crater that had probably been a half-decent settlement once upon a time and the telltail brown of NCR armor swam in his vision. Couple men, standing guard in front of the gate.

"Afternoon, Gentlemen," he spoke up as they approached, cheerful as you like, even tipped his hat. The tightness in his jaw as he stretched the warm smile over his teeth itched to let himself take a swing at the man. But, best not to beat the shit out of the rank and file.

The Sargent put a hand up, "Sorry folks, no passage into the city today. We've got a hostage situation."

He raised an eyebrow at the man, willing his fist to unclench. Wasn't the time. "Hostage situation?"

The Sargent nodded, gesturing behind him to the beige clad blonde curled up over the radio. Pretty thing, probably. He couldn't quite make out the details of her face, but the frown was clear enough as she listened to the static-cracked orders being relayed.

"A couple of Great Khans took some troopers on their way through for shore leave hostage. We're at an impasse and waiting for command before we proceed. I'm gonna have to ask you to head back the way you came before things get hot." Army Man gestured back towards the direction they'd come from.

He tilted his head, "Great Khans you say? Why, Sargent, turns out its yer lucky day." This time the grin wasn't forced. "My buddy and I happen to have an appointment here today with some Great Khans." Felt like luck. Shame he didn't believe in Luck.

The Sargent's eyes landed on Boone. Or, more accurately, his Beret. After a moment, he nodded as if deciding that the hat and man were true things. He turned his attention back towards the taller man, "That is a stroke of luck. But, if you're planing on going guns blazing I'm going to have to ask you to turn around and walk away. We'd prefer to try and talk them down, rescue our recruits if we can."

Mik chuckled, a deep, warm sound. Edge of something dangerous behind it. "Why Sargent, you couldn't be sugestin' my friend and I want to hurt those men do you? No, no. They're prob'ly spooked by all yer army bluster and big guns. Nope, we're just here to pick up a package. 'M a Courier after all. Paperwork's good'n everythin."

Mik let his eyes slide down towards the pretty, if stressed, soldier by the radio. She had glanced up at him and he felt that warm smile widen slightly. Nodded his head in her direction. "Why don't you good Army fellers let me and my friend here go in and talk to these boys. See if we can't get'm to stand down. Don't rightly think they were real glad to see you NCR folk walk into town. Don't rightly blame them."

The Sargent glanced down at his subordinate on the radio, then up towards Mik. His eyes shifted towards Boone again, and he nodded a couple times. Then his eyes shifted over towards Eddie, hovering just behind. Mik noticed the squint.

"Want me to leave Eddie out here? He's a good little scouter. Found him junked a few years back. Rebuilt'm myself." He gave the eyebot a gentle pat, and received a series of happy beeps in return.

The Sargent shook his head, dismissing what ever thought he had been brewing, "Alright, it's against my better judgement, but go on in. See if you can convince him to release the hostages. But.. if we hear shooting.."

"Don't you worry, Sargent. We can handle ourselves in a fight, 'fn it comes to that."

* * *

  
Boone had remained quiet through the conversation. How smooth Mik was with the stressed out NCR Sargent. Had given himself a leg up by pointing out his Beret. Considering how much they'd actually talked in the day and a half since they'd been traveling together, the honeyed tone and relaxed body language was almost impressive.

Yeah. Almost.

Definitely had taken him off guard. Boone hadn't thought the Courier was a man of words. But he supposed someone would need some kind of communication skills to carry packages across the desert. Snipers didn't need a lot of words.The Sargent opened the gate, and the two of them, plus the bot, stepped inside the perimeter. As they passed, Mik dropped a hand onto the shoulder of one of the the crouching soldiers lined up along the pathway to the building the Khans were obviously holding out in. He watched him pat the young man gently in reassurance. Watched him tip his hat to the one farther up. Didn't take them long to walk up to the building, Boone letting the taller man take point. His gait was fluid despite the length of his legs. The pace slow and steady. Likely set that way as to not spook the already on edge soldiers scattered throughout the ruins. At the door he turned towards Boone. Tilted his head in a gesture that suggested he should flank the other side of the door. Boone nodded, sliding his rifle off his shoulder, but not bringing it up. He was pretty sure it was for precaution only. Mik hadn't bothered to ready his own rifle. Instead he brought a knuckle up and gently wrapped on the door once. Twice.

"BACK OFF, WE AIN'T COMMIN OUT UNTIL YOU NCR FUCKS BACK OFF"

Mik swung open the door. Four sets of pistols were leveled at Mik's chest, and Boone swung his rifle up, resting the barrel on the taller man's shoulder to make sure it was clearly seen.

"Wait... fuck. Wait! Damnit I said wait!" The man behind the counter was yelling. "Put those down holy shit..!"

"Now fella's, there ain't no need for any of that." Boone caught the hint of venom in Mik's voice, buried deep beneath the honey.

Boone couldn't see Mik's face, but had a feeling there was a shit eating on it. The taller man had both his hands up, stance relaxed and nonthreatening like this was something he just.. did all the time. After another moment, and another round of swearing, the pistols were lowered, and Mik sidestepped in and to the left to reveal Boone. Boone nodded at the motion and lowered his rifle. The man behind the counter ran a hand down his bearded face. Took a deep, shaky breath, and stared at Mik for nearly as long as it had taken for his lackeys to lower their weapons. Almost as if he'd seen a ghost.

"You're that Courier Benny wasted back in Goodsprings..."

Mik tilted his head in acknowledgement, hands still in the air. Boone let his eyes flick upwards towards the Courier. He had been right. Shit eating grin.

"You're supposed to be dead!"

And there it was again. That dark chuckle that felt like something sweet and all together dangerous the way it reverberated in the air, down your spine. Warm, deadly. "I got better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mik's now officially rattling around in my head demanding attention. Attention he shall have, I guess. Also dialogs a little different, but who wants a word for word rehash? Besides, Mik's a simple man. Hears what he hears.


	3. Weird Kid

The Kid had doubled over the counter that separated him from the Great Khans, elbows propping him up, head in both hands. Broad shoulders shaking in silence. The poor fool on the opposite side of the counter had backed right up against the wall, looking as if he'd pissed his pants in fear and hadn't noticed. Boone wasn't sure what was happening for a long moment, silently watching the other four in the room in case of any sudden movements. He ran a finger along the trigger of his rifle, but didn't bring it up for fear of escalation. The kid was still shaking, and it was agony as the seconds ticked by.

Laughter.

The kid threw his head, no whole torso backwards in uproarious laughter. The cowboy had both arms wrapped around his midsection, as if to keep from splitting wide open as he laughed.

Motherfucking...

"Yu..haha! Ya'll should see yer faces... "

The Khans shifted uncomfortably in place, unsure how to react. Boone himself went very still. He didn't know this kid, not well enough. Not by a mile. The whole situation could be about to get real fucking ugly. The leader of the Khans seemed to loose some of the fear behind his eyes and joined, hesitantly in on the laughter. A light, forced laughter, as if to say 'Look I get the joke too'. He glanced towards the others. They also joined in on the laughter. There was movement. A slight twitch in the laughing man's jaw that Boone managed to catch but the others didn't.

Swift as a coyote pounce, and the kid had stopped laughing, snatching up the mohawked man in front of him by the front of his shirt. Lifting him up off the ground and dragging him halfway across the counter in a single, fluid motion. Fast. To fast for the others to react. Almost to fast for Boone to react, but not quite. He snapped his rifle up and aimed it directly at the rest of the goons.

"Where..."

"The FUCK"

"IS BENNY"

* * *

Mik twisted harder on the mans stained tee-shirt in his hand. Every muscle fiber in his long arm trembling from the strain as he lifted upwards. His knuckles digging into the flesh of his adams apple. The man coughed, sputtered, "I.. I.."

"Did I stutter boy? Benny. Be-nn-ee!" he yelled again, his own throat raw from the sheer force of anger spilling out of it. His head throbbed, but he ignored it. Fuck off headache. He was busy.

The man his hand sputtered again, coughed, reached up with a hand to grab at the hand holding him in place.

Mik took a shaky breath and relaxed his grip slightly. Not enough to let him go. Should just use the leverage to make hamburger out of his face against the counter. Slam his face into it repeatedly till he couldn't remember what it looked like anymore.

_"Look who's wakin up over here"_

The scene echoed over and over in his head. Knew these were the fucks as soon as the door had swung open. A sideways glance at the group of shitty goons in the room had confirmed for him, at the very least, the other.

_"Would you just get it over with already?"_

He swallowed hard, the bile in his stomach threatening to overwhelm him.

He let go.

Wasn't sure why, but he felt that smile creeping up over his teeth again. Shit eating grin. Somewhere deep inside, beneath the hatred and the anger, the very idea that he likely could give a single nod in Boone's direction and at least two of them would have their brains spattered all over the god damned walls before they could react, a little voice spoke up. Repeated over and over and over in his mind like a pebble being polished.

As the man in front of him slid off the countertop, stooped over in a fit if coughing, trying to get the air back into his lungs, he felt the words pour out of him.

"From where you're standin', must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck."

"Fuck," the other man spoke, but it was under his breath, probably didn't even know he had said it. Mik snapped his attention to him and grinned, "Good thing I don't believe in Luck, huh?"

He held up his hand towards Boone, didn't even look in the smaller man's direction, but could hear the rifle aimed at the Khans lowering again. "Good. Now. We're all friends here, right fellas? No one has to get hurt. Just so long as you tell me where the FUCK Benny is."

The one with the mohawk was breathing steadily again, hands still on his knees, "I don't know man! He fuckin stiffed us and ran back to Vegas. Left us bout a weeks back at the saloon just outside of town."

Mik raised his eyebrow, "And ya'll just fuckin let him leave?"

"He ran back to the Tops, isn't like we don't know where he is," spoke up the other. 

He felt himself chuckle. The Tops. "Guessin the Tops is?"

White Tee-shirt spoke this time, "A Casino in Vegas. Benny's the leader of the Chairman, they run the joint. Look man, it wasn't anything personal. He payed us to help him track you down. Something about the package you were supposed to be delivering to Vegas. We didn't have any details, just that you were probably armed and we were backup."

"You gotta name?" Mik asked, head spinning back towards White shirt Mohawk man.

"Jessup," He replied, rubbing at his neck.

"What was that?"

"J-jessup, sir."

Mik nodded, letting himself fully relax. He glanced over to Boone, gave him an easy smile to let him know it was all good. Despite no longer aiming the rifle, the smaller man was tight, coiled and ready to pounce should the tone shift again. Good to know. "Alright Jessup. The Vegas fuck paid ya'll to be his backup. How'd he stiff you if he payed you?"

"It was only half. We were supposed to get the rest back in Vegas."

Mik furrowed his brow and shook his head. "It's been over a month, at least, since Goodsprings. The hell were ya'll been doin all this time?" He was pretty sure it didn't take but a weeks travel to get to Vegas the long way around. At least, that's what it felt like. And that's if you're goin slow.

"Benny said it would be a good idea to take it slow. Stay in towns a couple days at a time. The package was important but it was more important not to seem like it was a rush job. Yanno, in case House caught wind of it." Jessup seemed to have recovered from his near asphyxiation enough to know to be forthcoming. Good.

"House?"

"Yeah man, Mr. House. The Big Boss of Vegas. The package was sent by him. Dunno why Benny was after it if it was already going to Vegas but he said it was important that House didn't get it."

Mik nodded again, running his hand down his beard, "And Ya'll didn't hurry after him cause it ain't like he's goin other places, yeah?"

All five of the Khans in the room nodded, almost simultaneously.

Mik slid his gaze down towards Boone, slapped a hand on his shoulder, and smiled. Then he spoke again, "This here soldier doesn't give two half fucks about Benny, but I'm bettin he's worried about them NCR kids you got tied up here somewhere. What's that about?"

Jessup groaned, as if realizing there was, in fact, a Red Beret in the room. "Fuck. Fuck! Fuck man we were partying in the Tavern when NCR rolled up. Spooked the shit out of us. Thought it was a good idea to clear out, but when we left they started taking pot shots at us. So McMurphy grabbed a couple of the closest ones and we hauled into the ruins. We thought they'd calm down and we'd sneak out the back. But there is no god damned back to this place I swear."

Mik squeezed Boone's shoulder, only mildly suprised to find it as thickly muscled as he'd been expecting and smiled at Jessup. "Alright, I feel that. Didn't mean to cause no trouble but trouble came runnin' anyway. Well lets see what we can do about it eh? Them NCR boys you got litterin' the place ain't nothin more then green. Likely ya'll scare them more then they scared you. So, since you boys have been so kind as to give me the answers I was lookin for, why don't I do ya'll a good turn as well."

"You're not gonna kill us?" McMurphy, he was guessing.

"Kill you?" Mik felt himself laugh. Didn't matter if he couldn't remember, it felt good. Felt right. The Mojave never changed, "You boys aren't the ones who failed to kill me, or hell, even tried. Besides. If I wanted ya'll dead you would be." 

"Last thing you never see," Boone spoke, his words cold and quiet.

"Nah, see.. there's only one person I want dead. Vegas fuck who can't figure out how to pull a god damned trigger. So. Here's what we're gonna do," He gestured towards the Khans gathered, "Ya'll are gonna release those scared army boys. My partner n' I'll escourt'm out to the gate. Once that's done, the only two here, other'n'Boone and I, with any kind of real combat experience'll get the toy soldiers to stand down and you lot are gonna walk on out of these ruins alive and untouched. Heard?"

It was Jessup's turn to laugh, "You honestly think NCR's just gonna stand down because you asked them to?"

Mik nodded slowly, "Yep, I do. Don't rightly think NCR wants to go to war with the Khans right now. Bigger 'Lurks to fry and not enough hot sauce to go around. Legion's a lot fuckin scarier then you boys, and after what I saw in Nipton I don't rightly blame'm for bein worried."

"What happened in Nipton?" Jessup asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Mik grimaced, "Legion happened."

"Shit. Well.. alright. If you think you can get the NCR to stand down..."

* * *

It was close to dark by the time they'd reached the 188. All in all, things had gone pretty smoothly. Even managed to get a present, a gold plated lighter that he was currently fiddling with while waiting for Boone to return to the dried out old pick nick table he was sat on. Click, Click, Click. He flicked it open, and closed a few times while thinking about the days events. Ran his thumb over the sparkwheel, drawing it back slowly a few rotations, watching as it sparked and sputtered. Wondered if he just... then pulled his thumb back fast, causing a small flame to jump up and hover in the hood. Nice. He set the lighter down on the wood table in front of him and reached down into his pack. After a moment of blind fumbling, he pulled a old pack of cigarettes out, unopened, and held it in his hand. Stared at it for a moment or two. Then shrugged and pealed the warped, aged plastic off. The box was still in half decent shape, all things considered. Wasn't sure how it would taste, considering it was damn near 200 years old likely. Probably give him rad poisoning. He'd only been grabbing them when he'd seen'm because folks tended to pay pretty decent caps for them.

He took another moment to stare at the thick paper box, warped by time but better protected then he'd expected it aught to have been. Fuck it. He opened the box slowly, trying not to tear it, and pulled out a single cig. Held it betwen his fingers, gave it a sniff, then shrugged and tucked the filter between his lips. Scooped up the lighter and...

"You're not actually going to smoke that, are you?"

He tilted his head up towards the voice and caught a face full of brown eyes. Not just eyes, hair too, peaking out from a burlap hood. Definitely pretty, the face. Young and unmarred by the daily life of living in the Mojave. The corner of his mouth turned up into a half-grin, and struck the lighter with his thumb, bringing heat to the end of the cigarette there. A long drag, before he pulled it from his mouth, blew a cloud of smoke from his lungs, and chuckled. "Tastes like I expected."

"Like 200 year old dried out irradiated tobacco?" the girl asked, sitting herself down across from him.

He laughed at that, "Yep, like shit." He pulled another drag or two off the butt before flicking it away, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

"I'm impressed honestly. I didn't think you'd do it. Names Veronica by the way, nice to meet you," She smiled, offering a hand over the table.

He scooped it up into his own, giving it a firm handshake. Her grip impressed him, stronger then he'd have thought, considering how damn soft the her hand was in comparison to his own. Uncalloused. "Pleasure's all mine, Ma'am. I'm Mik," he gestured towards the smaller man standing impatiently at the counter, "That's Boone."

Boone waved a hand, not even bothering to look backwards at them.

"And the bot?"

Mik grinned. Eddie had been happily chirping away, floating slowly after some tiny creepy crawly it'd discovered, "He is, apparently, the Eyebot Duraframe Subject E, but we call him Eddie for short."

The young woman, Veronica, smiled at that, "Him huh?"

"It's what he claims. Not gonna tell no one who they aught to be if they rightly already know. He's a good pal." Mik watched as Eddie zapped what ever little critter he'd been chasing. "Experiment over Eddie?"

The eyebot floated on up, and chirped out a series of confirmation beeps and whistles.

Veronica laughed, "Yeah I can see how you were curious as to why there are extra big ants verses extra small ones. The little ones probably weren't as effected by the mutations given to them by the radiation in the ground as the big ones were. Offshoots of their original ancestry maybe."

Eddie beeped excitedly and spun in a little circle in the air. Veronica laughed and gave the little bot a pat.

Mik blinked, and Boone, who had been on his way back to the table carrying two plates full of Bramin steak froze mid step. "You understood him?"

She nodded, "My family is... good with technology."

"Vault Dweller?" Boone asked as he settled down, sliding the second plate over to Mik. Mik gave the man a nod of thanks and pulled a fork out of his pack. Handed a second one over.

Veronica paused a moment, shaking her head and then shrugging before answering,"No. Well.. yeah, close enough I suppose. They don't get out into the wastes enough though."

Mik used the side of his fork to cut into his steak. Best thing about a decent cut of Bramin, didn't often need a knife if it was cooked right.

"Guessin that's why yer out here then, darlin?" Mik asked, giving the girl a warm smile before stuffing the chunk of meat, and a little bit of cooked jalapeno, into his mouth.

Mik groaned, closing his eyes and enjoying the taste of real, honest to goodness steak. Felt like ages since he'd eaten anything that hadn't been out of a can or wasn't shaped like a former bug. Veronica was chatting away, talking about being the grocery runner for her family of cave dwelling techno-geniuses. He guessed that she hadn't had any kind of real company in a while, from the way she prattled on. Cute kid, probably no more then 20. Absolutely sheltered. He nodded along when appropriate, hmm'd and mmhm'd when it called for it. All the while, enjoying actual, real, damn near perfectly cooked, juicy, steak-and-pepper goodness.

"...Anyway, I didn't mean to interrupt your dinner. Most folks who pass through tend to just ignore me. It's nice to have a conversation sometimes. Michelle usually keeps me company, and Mr. Kurr lets me stay at the campgrounds if it's not to crowded. Are you guys headed to Vegas?"

Mik set his fork on his plate and patted his stomach. He glanced over towards Boone, who was, to his amazement, falling asleep in his plate. It caused him to laugh, and he kicked at the man under the table, "S'cuse me a sec Ma'am... Boone, go thank the gentelmen in the outpost for a great meal and pay fer us to make camp nearby?"

Boone started, then glared at Mik for a solid five seconds. The look said, 'Fuck you', which just made him laugh harder. After a moment Boone stood up, "Ma'am," and headed back over towards the outpost.

"Yanno," Mik turned his attention back towards Veronica, "I'm surprised a pretty young thing like yerself would up and talk to a couple scruffy wasteland wanderers like my partner and I. Even with the NCR patrols, Mojave's not exactly the safest place."

Veronica shrugged, "I'm tougher then I look, honest. Plus the way you two talked to Michelle, all politeness and respect, made me realize that you weren't dangerous. At least not to someone who didn't deserve it. Plus plus, he's wearing an NCR badge on his hat. Plus Plus Plus you're bots more chatty then you think he is." She smiled at him, big brown eyes twinkling in amusement.

"He is, is he?" He laughed, "Well, now, whats the little buzzbox got to say about us?"

She tapped her chin for a moment before answering, "He said you were like one of those old stories you can read in the comics. A Cowboy who rides in and saves the day with a smile, but he was sad you didn't have a horse."

If he had been laughing before, it didn't even manage to take the cake on the noise that came out of him this time. A full on guffaw that had him clutching his sides and dropping his head on the wooden table. A cowboy? That was an image he hadn't though to think of himself. But, he kind of liked it. Felt right. He took a deep breath and wiped the tears out his eyes. "Now that, is amazin'. What'd he say about Boone?"

All smiles, Veronica happily supplied the answer, "Like an old world, hard boiled ex soldier turned detective. All hard edges hiding a soft inner sadness."

He chuckled again, letting his vision land on the NCR soldier that had stopped Boone's return. Boone was nodding to whatever was being said, reached up to adjust the Beret. Mik tried to ignore the warmth spreading through his chest, noticing that Boone's posture had straightened up. As if what ever the soldier was saying had put a little pride back into the shoulders that usually sagged with the weight of past sins. "Yep, that's about right too. Seems our little Eddie's got quite the imagination."

"Mmh, I was surprised too. Eyebots don't usually have personalities. Whoever built him originally must have really cared about him. Anyway, you didn't answer my question from earlier," Veronica twinkled at him.

Mik rose an eyebrow, "Question?"

"Yep, are you three headed to Vegas?"

"Ah, yeah. Gonna bed down here for the night though. Likely get a head start in the morning. Got an appointment to keep. Why?"

"No reason," Veronica's expression was hard to read. All smiles, but there was absolutely something else behind that smile that made him curious to push for a better answer. He decided against it though when she spoke again, "Come say goodby before you leave tomorrow? I'll see if I can't fix up your pip-boy."

Huh. He didn't even know it was broken, "Didn't even know it was broken."

"It's not. Not really. But it looks like the flashlight on it is busted and it probably needs a quick memory wipe for it to properly track landmarks and such. Anyway, looks like your boyfriend's finally done being flirted with. I'll let you two get some sleep. Good niiiiiiiiiight!" and Just like that, she'd swooped up away from the table and wandered off.

"He's not my..." huh...

"Hey. We're good for the night." Boone came into view, pulling his sunglasses off of his face and wiping down the bridge of his nose. "Guy gave us a discount on the plot since I complimented his food."

Mik pulled his attention away from the words echoing in his head and the place where the young lady had been when she'd said them, "Hmm? Oh, great. I'm fuckin exhausted."

Boone gave him a nod of agreement and reached down to scoop up both of their packs, "Weird kid. What's her deal?"

Mik sighed and shook his head, pushing himself up from the table, "No clue. Funny though. Ready?"

"Yeah."


	4. Hurt

Boone grumbled under his breath. He wasn't quite sure why the courier had decided to let Chatty Cathy come along to Vegas with them. She seemed a nice enough kid. It wasn't like it bothered him to have more backup in case the legion decided to send a hit squad, but his nice, quiet job had become anything but that. It had been nice, not having to think about the inevitability of his death for a few days. Just traveling. Walking along side the courier in comfortable silence. Especially since Mik hadn't tried to pry into his personal life the way everyone else in the damned universe tried to do when they found out he was First Recon. No questions about Bitter Springs, and no questions about Carla. It had been nice.

Not that he didn't realize the Courier probably didn't even remember hearing about Bitter Springs, let alone the aftermath from it. The leers, taunts.. being spit on. It was all bad on all sides. If Boone was a betting man, and he wasn't, it was likely if the courier ever did learn of what the NRC, what his unit, what he had done.. well, it would be the end of any kind of friendship they might have cultivated. Not that Boone did friends anymore. No. It was all together better if he just kept the courier, and anyone else, at arms length.

Yeah. It wasn't as if he didn't enjoy Mik's company either. No that wasn't the issue. He just had a debt that was coming due. It would be better if good folk like Miss Chatty and Mik kept thinking of him as nothing more then a bodyguard.

Not that Miss Chatty seemed to get the point.

"...think NRC let their people go. Why'd you quit? Boone? Earth To Boone. Are you listening?"

Boone sighed and poked at the fire.

"Now Miss Veronica, leave poor Boone be. It ain't good to poke a viper. I'm sure if Boone wanted t'talk about his NCR days he would."

Boone looked up towards the cowboy hat wearing Courier opposite the fire and gave a nod. He knew there was a reason he didn't hate his company.

"Truth be told, I ain't all that surprised, from what that other fella in Novac was sayin' tho."

Boone's gaze froze on Mik's face. Did he know? Soft green eyes gazed right back at him, and Boone felt his frown deepen. It didn't really bother him to know that he had talked to Manny after all. Wasn't sure what he was feeling really. Almost nice to know that the man had learned a little and not pushed for more. Fuck Manny Though. Couldn't keep his damned mouth shut about anything, could he. Boone didn't regret cutting ties from him anymore now then he hadwhen he'd seen the relief on his face that Carla had gone missing. Half wished it had been him instead of Jeanie Mae. Or maybe should have had him bring Manny to the dinosaur as well. Dead men can't talk.

"What do you mean?" Veronica set her spoon into now empty can she had been eating out of, her face full of curiosity.

Mik turned his attention over to Veronica. A warm smile spread across his face, "Never you mind, Miss. Killin folk is dirty enough work with out havin' to have other folk pokin' at you for details. 'Sides, you can't just tell the people in charge to jump off a cliff if you ain't like the orders they're givin."

Veronica nodded, "Fair enough I guess. Sorry for prying, Boone." She gave him an apologetic smile and Boone just nodded. Wasn't really anything that was worth apologizing for.

"Boone?" Mik's voice caused him to look away from Veronica. The courier stood, smoothly, all lanky limbs. For being as big as he was it struck Boone that the man moved with a grace of a some kind of animal. Wasn't sure what kind of animal, nothing he'd seen in his time, but there was agility there that you didn't see often in a man that tall.

"Mmh?"

"Come help me check the perimeter?"

"Yeah."

* * *

Boone had been quiet for most of the days travels. Even when they'd doubled back to check in at Forlorn Hope. Veronica had managed to get the radio on the courier's Pip-boy working and Mr. New Vegas's voice had crackled to life, talking about how the reports out of the encampment there hadn't been faring all that well. The news man had been right, and the four of them had spent most of the rest of the day tracking down a lost supply shipment for them. It altogether hadn't been terribly difficult, though if Mik thought it weird that Veronica had opted to play scout when they'd gone to HELIOS to ask questions of the guards there, he hadn't voiced them aloud.

She hoped she hadn't tipped them off to who she actually was. Where she was from. It didn't really matter. Mik seemed like enough of a gentlemen not to pry to deeply, and Boone was so quiet she figured he wasn't going to bother to ask. That was fine with her. The company was nice, and if anyone could keep her alive and incognito out in the Mojave, it had to be those two. Besides, Mik had been all to happy to answer the million and one questions she'd inanely thrown at him. If Boone wasn't a talking man, then the courier was. Or, well, maybe he wasn't so much a talking man as he was a polite one who didn't mind listening to her ramble on and on.

The conversation was nice too. It had been to long since she'd been able to really let her curiosity get the better of her. She'd asked him all sorts of questions he easily and readily answered. What was with the scar? When had he decided to ask Boone to travel with him? How long had he been a courier? The scar story was... well, scary honestly. Surviving a gunshot wound was pretty slim chances in the Mojave, let alone in some backwater like Goodsprings. Double let alone in the head. He'd laughed when she had gaped at that, said spite was one heck of a drug. No, actually he had said Hell, but stopped and corrected himself. As if swearing in front of her was some kind of taboo. Maybe she'd have to corner Boone at some point and ask him if Mik was as foulmouthed as she was. She wasn't really sure why he'd censor himself like that. It's not as if she were any kind of pretty lady, all prim and proper like in the old magazines.

Not that she didn't want to be a prim and proper lady. One of the reasons she was so excited about heading into New Vegas was that there had to be some kind of dress shop there right? She could absolutely find something to make her feel pretty, at least for a little while. What was wrong with that? Stupid paladins had made fun of her for wanting to feel a little bit girly...

Fuck them...

....

Veronica sat up and looked around. The fire beside her was getting low, so she reached over to add another handful of dry twigs and grass to toss on top. They hadn't been lucky enough to find any full logs when they broke camp, but there were a handful of thicker branches she could add. Maybe that was why the guys had been taking so long to return. She hadn't heard any shouts or gunfire, so it obviously wasn't because of trouble, and it sure didn't take that long to check the traps...

No.

No way.

No way no way.

Mik had pulled her aside early, before they'd left and made it clear that the two had only known each other a couple of days. That even if Boone had a 'nice hindquarters', as he'd put it, that Boone was a married man. That had been hilarious actually, now that she was remembering. She knew. KNEW. She could always tell. Though from the way they had interacted she had figured they were together. Even just that afternoon, she'd noticed the way Mik always stooped slightly when talking to Boone, as if trying to protect him from something. He was never loud like he was when he was chatting with her. His movements slow and nonthreatening... So them being gone for so long it could mean.. nah. No way. They hadn't been gone THAT long anyway. Mik absolutely had a crush though. Even if he maybe didn't notice it yet himself.

She shrugged and laid back down, getting as comfy as possible against her pack. Nah. Mik didn't seem the type to mess with someone already married. At least not intentionally. She'd just have to add it to the list of things to find while in Vegas. A nice guy for Mik to have a healthy crush on, not a married man.

She punched at her pack a couple times to smooth out the lumps and nodded to herself. She always did like a project.

* * *

"All good?" Mik had been taking his time walking the perimeter traps. 4 steps, 8 right, 6 more, then left. It helped him think. Or not think, as it were, cause thinking just made his head hurt. Inevitably his thoughts would run circles around trying to figure out what he didn't remember. Or, and more often in the last two days, what Boone might think of the things he had been trying not to think about. Especially after Miss Chatty had made the comment about them being.... Had he had a ..friend before? Maybe a lady friend? He couldn't remember, and it pissed him off. He must have had to had.. friends.. at some point in his life. Knew what to do with parts and what went where. Made his head hurt. So, instead, he counted his steps and when he reached Boone he decide to check in and see if that mess was just as hot.

"Hmm?" Boone was knelt down, retying the knot in the tin can alarm, shoulders hunched and tight, as if thinking way to hard about something. It bothered Mik that perhaps allowing the young lady to travel with them to Vegas might've upset him. Wasn't sure why it would, but not everyone liked company. Mik hadn't been sure he was the type, himself, but the last few days travel had been far better with the company of Boone and then Veronica then it had been on the trip to Novac. Not that Eddie wasn't pleasant enough company on his own, but you could only talk to somethin that beeped back at you for so long.

"Critter managed to chew a little of the rope so I fixed it," Boone replied. Didn't answer the question. Or maybe he hadn't understood.

Mik nodded slowly, extending a hand to the man, "Yep figured, but s'not what'm askin."

Boone rose an eyebrow, letting go of his hand to brush the dirt off of himself, "What do you mean?"

"Yanno, with missy pokin at you an such. If its trouble we can always drop her around to the 188 in the mornin. Sure she'd understand."

Boone shook his head, "No. It's fine. She just.. "

"More talkative then you're used to eh?" Mik grinned

Boone looked pensive, as if he was deciding on what words were right. Maybe deciding what words were wrong. Didn't matter, after a few moments he said, "No. She just reminds me of Carla."

Mik blinked a few times, surprised by the quiet mans forthcoming. He figured Boone would never talk about his wife, and that was his right, after what had happened. Tentatively, he asked, "What was she like?"

"Like the sunshine." He smiled at that, just a half-smile, "Always asking questions. Knowing when to fill the silence. Like maybe she knew I couldn't and that was okay." For a moment Boone almost looked happy.

"Did she know? 'Bout your army days?"

It didn't last, and Mik watched as the wave of sadness washed over the shorter man. He sighed, shook his head, "No."

Mik dropped an arm around Boone's shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. "It's all good man. You ain't gotta share nothin you don't wanna. Besides, it ain't like I don't got a mountain of shit either."

Boone sighed again, gave a nod, "Doesn't matter. Veronica is fine."

Mik gave him a nod in return. He got it. Well, maybe not exactly the same, but.. "Sometimes shit don't wanna let ya rest."

"Yeah."

They stayed there for a long moment, Mik looking up at the vastness of the sky. This close to Vegas, the stars were harder to make out in the sky, and for some reason it caused a pang of sadness to tug at him from somewhere. Wasn't sure where, or why. Wasn't sure he wanted to dig into the emptiness of his own memories to find out. Instead, he just stared. Searching for... nothing really.

Then, he jumped out of his god damned skin, "Didn't figure you'd be as chatty as she is though."

"Jesus..!"

Boone laughed, and any thought of punching the smaller man for scaring him evaporated as fast as it had come. It was a nice sound, small. Warm. Little ragged around the edges, like it wasn't quite sure if the man knew how to do it. "And jumpy for someone so perceptive."

He punched him for that, though. Just a light tap on the shoulder. "Fuck you.." Another chuckle. "You're just jealous I managed to attract the cutest little thing this side of the Colorado with a smile."

"She's taller then I am."

Mik shifted, taking a step back to size up the man next to him, "Nah, can't be."

Boone nodded, "She is. Stronger, too. Probably. Maybe stronger then both of us."

"Think so?"

"Yeah. She punched the shit out of one of those Legion fucks who attacked us earlier today. Got to close to me." It was Boone's turn to stare up towards the sky. After a moment or two he spoke again, "Might be nice to have someone along who can handle close range problems."

Mik chuckled, "Yep, might be nice. I ain't much in the way of fistycuffs, most days. You could, probably, army trainin and whatnot."

Boone shook his head, "I'm shit at hand to hand. Better to deal with assholes before they see you."

"I hear that. Can't hit ya if they're dead."

"Yeah."

Another long stretch of silence. It was nice. To him, the cheerful talkativeness of Veronica wasn't any less or more nice then being able to just stare into the void with someone who didn't need to fill the air with words. Felt like that kind of dynamic was hard to come by. Maybe it had been why he had become a courier. To much noise. To many people asking to many questions, having to many opinions on shit. Yep. The quiet was nice.

"Thanks."

Mik tried his best NOT to jump out of his skin this time. Wasn't sure if he'd managed it, but it didn't really matter, "For what?"

"For swinging back to Forlorn Hope. From how you reacted to Boulder, I figured NRC wasn't high on the list of stuff you cared about."

Mik took a deep breath, "Nope. I ain't got nothin against NRC. Just... don't think I knew about all the shit that went down. You'd think I woulda, since that statue out front said it was five years ago."

"How old are you, you think?"

Mik scratched at his beard. He needed to shave, "Huh.. dunno.."

"Think it's in that thing?" Boone gestured towards Mik's wrist.

"Worth a check I spose.." He hefted his wrist up between then and flipped on the pip-boy monitor, the pale green glow illuminating both their faces. As he fiddled with the dial, he absentmindedly noted to himself that Boone wasn't wearing his sunglasses. Found himself wondering if Boone's eyes were actually green, of it was the tint of the pip-boy's light, until the recorded notes section appeared. After another few flicks he found it.

** Mojave Express Employment Information **

**Name:** Mikaelson, J.

**Age (or Approximation):** 2250/10/24

**Emergency** **Contact(s):**

<N/A>

Mik laughed, "Well look at that. I missed my birthday."

Boone wrapped his fingers around his wrist, pulling the pip-boy closer. Mik felt an involuntary lance of heat spread through him, but deigned to ignore it. "Jay?"

"Mmh?"

"It's like the paperwork we fill out when joining the army. Last name first, see?" Boone wiped his thumb over the screen as he spoke, clearing the accumulated dust, "Mine would be listed Boone comma Craig"

"You're first name is _Craig_?"

"Fuck you," Boone sighed, "Seriously though. Didn't you say your name didn't feel right?" Boone turned his gaze upon Mik's face, the expression one of mild realization.

Fuck. "Fuck. Yeah. When the Doc asked me what it was, best I could answer was Mikael. Didn't feel right but didn't have no other answers."

"Yeah, cause your name isn't Mikael at all, dumbass. It's Mikaelson. Or your last name, anyway. Your first name starts with J." 

Mik frowned, "Jay... the fuck could it be?"

"Dunno. I knew a few guys named Juan, a Justin, and a Jose. Could be anything really." Boone tapped his finger on the screen, frowning in thought.

Mik turned the sound over in his head. J. Jay. Said it out loud under his breath a few times...

Felt something settle in the pit of his stomach. Didn't feel wrong. As if he could almost hear someone calling, echoing back at him through a dark tunnel with no end in sight.

_"Jase, dinner!"_

His head split apart like someone had shot him. His legs gave out from under him as he involuntarily grabbed at his head, the cowboy hat tumbling to the ground as the pain lanced through him like a rusty knife, jagged and searing hot. Somewhere, possibly a thousand miles away, he could hear Boone's voice calling him.

_"Jase quit pickin' on your sister."_

_"Jase, quick! Someone left the gate open!"_

_"Jase!" "Jase..." "You're such a dick sometimes Jase."_

_"Jase... I love you"_

He wasn't sure of anything. Not how long he'd been holding his head, how long he had been screaming. He only knew the pain trying to tear him in half and a voice echoing over the top of the others. Some were female, others male... "MIK!"

"MIK. Stay with me, Mik. It's alright man, it's alright. Deep breaths. C'mon, don't jump off a cliff just yet man. It's alright."

Someone was holding him, wrapped up like someone had jumped on top of a grenade. Squeezing. Tight and secure, almost rocking in place. Maybe it was him that was rocking. Didn't know. Couldn't see beyond the blinding white heat pouring out of his own eyes and ears. THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMPTHUMPTHUMP. Somewhere in the noise, the rushing, the screaming, the whispering echoing in his head, he wondered if he was already dead. Felt himself wretch and then wretch some more, his inside spilling out of him, unraveling. Like his body was desperately trying to purge the screeching pain echoing between his ears.

"...Veronica!"

_"Jase you're ridiculous. Not here, we'll get seen."_

"....Okay?! Holy Fuck! What's going..."

_"Don't you talk back to me, boy!"_

"... me get him up, Forlorn Hopes not that fa..."

_"Can't you stay one more night, Jase?"_

* * *

Boone shifted the weight of the man's shoulders slightly, curling his sweaty hands into the leather armor of his armpits. On the other end Veronica held his legs. Mik'd stopped fighting them some time ago and appeared to have passed out, finally. Eddie scouted ahead, chirping loudly in worried conformation of the NRC camp.

"Eddie says it's not much farther," She spoke up. Boone just grunted. Stupid. He shouldn't have pried. Who knew what kind of damage Mik's brain had suffered from that gunshot wound? He'd been patched up by a single hick doctor in the wasteland, not a full medical team in the Hub or New Reno. He swore under his breath. Then he swore louder.

Fuck. "Fuck. Fuck fuck damnit fuck."

A snicker from Veronica made him just curse more. "I knew you boys were censoring yourselves. Wanna fill me in on what happened or?"

"Later, once we get to the medical tent."

Fuck. C'mon Mik. Don't die on me...


	5. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mik's section of this chapter deals with some heavy stuff. Abuse, suicide, suggestion of rape. While not descriptive or particularly graphic, the language is clear enough. I love you all and want you to feel safe, so spoilers or not, here's a gentle warning, just in case.

Three days.

Veronica paced back and forth outside the medical tent, trying to keep herself from going stir crazy. It wasn't as if she could have chatted up the soldiers, or the doctor, or even the others on the mend inside. Well, she could have, but she didn't trust herself not to let slip her secret, accidental or otherwise. She could barely trust herself to reassure Eddie, who had been keeping vigil next to his master, beeping sadly about how worried he was. She had, but only quietly and through gentle pats to his duraframe. Boone had all together been a no-go on the talking front, other then the light update on what, exactly, had happened. It honestly didn't surprise her. More then a few of her brothers and sisters suffered PTSD episodes after the retreat from HELIOS. From what little that Boone had told her, she had managed to piece together a timeline that indicated that it had been just over a month since the the Courier had left the care of the Goodsprings doctor. If anything, it probably should have happened sooner.

That it had been caused by looking as his own damned name though... Well, that was something all together different then what she usually knew of these kinds of things. But, she wasn't any kind of doctor, and she was pretty sure she had zero idea what would cause that kind of flashback triggering. So...

She sighed, and ducked into the tent. She couldn't keep standing around waiting for Boone to come back from his last trip out to assist the soldiers.

"Hello Veronica! Are you here to check up on our handsome patient?" Dr. Richards spoke, catching her eye as she entered.

"Hello Doctor, yep. Standing around ogling the soldiers is only so entertaining." She grinned at him as she tucked herself into the chair next to his desk, "He still asleep?"

The Doctor nodded, "Unfortunately. There's not a whole lot more I'm able to do for him at this point. As you know, he had mild radiation poisoning, but no more then any of the soldiers I tend to. Hell of a thing, surviving a gunshot to the head. I'm surprised that there wasn't more damage."

She nodded, "I haven't know Mik very long, but it sounded like the Doctor in Goodsprings is a Vault Dweller. So he probably couldn't have gotten better treatment."

Dr. Richards smiled, "I've heard of him, Doctor Mitchell. We tried to recruit him to the NRC a couple of different times. I wonder if he has a working Auto-doc?"

Veronica shrugged. She hadn't been to Goodsprings. "Don't know, honestly. Mik talks a lot less then I'd like. More then Boone, but he even if he's open to answering questions, he never really elaborates."

Dr. Richards rubbed his chin, "How long have you known them?"

"Who, Mik and Boone?" Veronica tilted her head in curiosity.

"Mmh. You were with them when you stopped in a few days ago, right?"

She nodded, "I've known them.. four days? I joined up because they're heading to Vegas. A lone woman walking all the way there by themselves isn't really a great idea, and they're..." She paused, thinking about her next words carefully, "They're nicer then they seem. Why?"

The Doctor glanced over towards Mik's cot, then back towards Veronica, "Are they.. just traveling companions? Or..."

What ever she had thought he was going to ask, that wasn't it. It made her all kinds of giddy. "Who, Mik and.. Boone?"

She watched as the doctor blushed. Well damn. That was super funny. She felt herself lean forward and whisper conspiratorially, "Why Dr. Richards.. do you have a crush on our cowboy? Or.. wait, don't tell me its Soldier boy?"

He laughed, "No definitely not soldier boy. I see enough of those every day to know not to try bothering with that. Soldiers are usually the wrong kind of broken."

"So you do like them broken?"

"And hot," He added.

She laughed at that and gave him a pat on the shoulder, "As far as I know there's nothing between them. Maybe mutual respect. Understanding? Like I said, Boone doesn't exactly talk, but Mik hinted he's dealing with shit from, well.."

"Being an Ex Soldier?"

She nodded, "That and there was mention of Boone being married, so," she shrugged, "Neither of them were super inclined to elaborate, so I took the hint and stopped asking."

"And what about you, Ms. Santangelo?"

"Me?" She rose an eyebrow at the Doctor. "Neither of them are my type."

"Not a fan of tall dark cowboys or brooding ex soldiers?" The doctor asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She laughed, "No, not a fan of guys."

"Ah.. so when you said ogling the soldiers wasn't very entertaining..." He started.

"There's not very many women stationed here, yeah." She finished.

He laughed, "Well, fair enough I suppose." His smile faded and he shook his head, "And you're right about that. Being so close to the front lines.. well, you know the stories about the Legion, I'm sure. If we get overrun, they'd be lucky to be killed fighting and not just taken as slaves."

She cringed at that. Of all the horror stories coming out of the people she'd talked to, the Legion's stance on women was the most horrible. "Probably rankles some of the lady soldiers pretty hard though, not being able to be assigned to the front lines?"

He nodded, "Most understand, but others really do hate it. I don't blame them, honestly. It's not like they fight any less hard then the men do."

"Well, remind me to stay as far away from the Legion as humanly possible."

He grinned, "Ms. Santangelo, stay as far away from the Legion as humanly possible."

"Ha!" She poked him in the shoulder, "Funny."

* * *

Boone took a shaky breath as the last of the Legion patrol fell, the bullet from his gun causing the mans head to explode all over the rock he'd been cowering behind. He didn't move his eye away from his scope as he continued to scan for any stranglers, but had to blink hard a few times to clear his vision regardless. The hatred he felt for those fucks always sent him into a kind of blood lust, and it took a few moments to come back down from that. Thankfully there were others around to keep him from picking up his position and continuing the hunt. A whistle behind him signaled the all clear, and with a sigh he rolled onto his back to allow himself to breath.

After a moment, he noticed the hand extended towards him. Lieutenant Monroe. He accepted the hand, pulling himself up to his feet with the aid of the Lieutenant. "Thanks."

Lieutenant Monroe smiled at him, "No man, thank you. You've been a real help the last couple days. You sure you don't wanna re-enlist? It's been a real pleasure having you here."

Boone shook his head, "No. I've done my time. Don't mind helping out now and again though." He was worried about Mik, who still hadn't woken up. Had gotten antsy. Offered to help keep the perimeter secure rather then sitting around like some kind of mother hen.

He bent over to pick his rifle up from its position on the ground, brushed the dirt off of the butt and slung it over his back, "We good?"

Monroe nodded, "Yep, doesn't seem like they'll be sending anymore out to test the waters today. Why they keep throwing small waves of recruits at us, I'll never know, but hell.. some of those boys couldn't have been older then 15." He shook his head and tucked his pistol away in its holster.

"Probably some kind of test. Whoever survives gets put on the list for the Dam attack or added to a hit squad or something," Boone grunted as he followed along with the rest of the troops as they wound their way back towards the encampment.

"At least the NCR has regulations for that kind of thing."

Boone nodded in agreement. The NCR didn't allow people to sign up unless they were at least 18. Not everyone who joined knew how old they were, but on the whole it worked pretty okay. "Yeah." Fucking Legion.

He let himself fall silent as they made the rest of the walk back. The others chattered on about the usual things young soldiers talked of, leave spent in Vegas, women or men back home, sometimes not back at home.. He wasn't really listening. His thoughts wandered towards the medical tent, and the way Mik has screamed in his arms. How scared he'd felt. Hadn't felt fear like that in a.. while. It bothered him that it bothered him. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen shit like that before. Wasn't as if he hadn't woken up in the dead of night before, the screams of the dying echoing in his head. What was worse, was that he should have expected something like that to happen and hadn't. A stray bullet, or a legion hitsquad sure, but that? Of course his bad luck would rear it's head against someone he was starting enjoy the company of. Why wouldn't it? If he hadn't pointed out the name...

"Gonna go check up on your partner?"

Boone blinked, snapping himself out of his own thoughts at the sound of the voice talking to him. Monroe again. He realized he was standing outside of the Medical tent and some part of him wondered how long he'd been there. "Yeah. The Doc keeps calling him Buttercup. It's fucking weird."

Monroe laughed, "He does that with all the guys. Don't let it bug you."

Boone gave the man a half-smile, "Doesn't. Just figure Mik wouldn't appreciate the nickname." He lied. It did bug him. Kind of pissed him off, actually. Wasn't entirely sure which pissed him off more, the nickname itself or the fact that doctor kept saying it, all soft like a lover. Or why it pissed him off. But it did. Rubbed him the wrong way. Kept having to stop himself from punching him. On top of all of that, he knew that Mik would probably find it hilarious. Lean into it. Bat his eyelashes at the doctor or some shit. Flash that shit eating grin and boast how he was 'prettier then a peach' or some stupid shit. There'd be no shutting him up.

He grumbled and Monroe laughed again. "Go on man. And don't worry about it to much. I'm sure he'll be okay."

"Yeah."

* * *

**There was yelling, off in the distance. A deep voice. One that made him feel small. One that reeked of alcohol. Red hair like his. There was light, rushing towards him fast... to fast.. couldn't make it stop..**

_Jase I thought I told you to make sure the god damned gate was closed!_

I'm sorry pa, I'm sorry.. don't hit me.

_What did you say to me boy?!_

Don't hit me!

**Red. Hot. No air. Pain.**

I SAID DON'T HIT ME, ASSHOLE.

**His hand hurt. There was a man on the floor. No. His fist was curled around the collar of the mans shirt. The other was still swinging.**

_Jase, no baby... baby please... Jase, let go!_

Did you think it was okay? Did you think I was gonna keep lettin' you hit Ma and Nina and Me?

_BOY I..._

**His fist connected again, thrown with every ounce of hatred inside him.**

_..I SWEAR TO THE LORD IN HEAVEN..._

Even after I got bigger'n you?

Did you think I was gonna stand by and not stop you?

**Again. Again. Hit him again. Make him see what it fucking feels like.**

_Jase, boy, please... fuck.._

FUCK YOU. YOU AIN'T NEVER DONE SHIT FOR ANY OF US.

_Jase, baby please, let your daddy go..._

_Jase, stop! you're killin him!_

_**Let go. Kick him. Pick him up. Throw him.** _

DON'T YOU COME BACK AROUND HERE OR I'LL PUT A BULLET IN YOU NEXT TIME.

_Jase!_

Ma..

Ma, it'll be okay...

Nina, it'll be okay...

It'll be okay, you'll see..

**He looked down, hands were bloody, shaking. Someone was crying.**

**A shift, the ground beneath him disappearing. Falling. No, not falling. Laying down?**

**Laughter.**

_Jase you're so silly..._

I love you.

_Promise me?_

**Warmth. Safety. Kissing?**

Won't be gone long, love. Promise. Keep'm safe till I'm back?

_Of course, baby. Your mom and sister are safe with me. And once you're back..._

We'll have enough.

**Another shift, kneeling. Red. Red. Red. Fists curled tight. Jaw tight.**

_Did you think I'd leave'm alone? Think I'd leave YOU alone? You and that faggot touchin my shit._

**Red. Red red red red red...  
**

No...!

_You shoulda seen the look on that dandys face when I put the buckshot in his gut!_

Andrew.. Andrew! Andrew, no no no no no.... why... why him why him why him why why WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS

_He cried your name like a little bitch when my boys got a hold of him too. Just like your ma. Where's the little one, the little bitch, Jase, WHERE IS SHE. WHERE IS MY PROPERTY!_

I'LL KILL YOU.

**Gunshots. Red red red red red red red red red red red red red red red red red red red red...**

**Again. No, different. No more red. Sitting at a table. Tired.  
**

_Do you really have to leave again? Stay, we don't need the caps._

I owe a debt.

_Your debt... Jesus... Jase, we've been over this._

We ain't been over shit.

_It'll be fine, what does it matter anymore?_

**Anger.**

The fuck would you know?

_I know she's not a person Jase._

**Wham! His fist hurt. Punched the table.  
**

_Jesus baby calm down it's not.._

Fuck you. _Don't_ call her that. Don't call me that.

_Don't yell at me..._

I knew I shouldn't have done this.

_What's that supposed to mean?_

It means what it means. 

_Jase?_

Don't wait up, Lisa.

**Red hair. Red hair like his but lighter, thinner, unhealthy. Tanned skin, like his, but sallow. Green eyes like his but paler. Like him but softer. Smaller. Wrong. Empty.**

Hey sissy. You doin okay here? They treatin you good? I ain't gotta yell at them nurses again do I?

**No response.**

That's what I thought. Scared'm good last time. Treat my baby sister right, I told'm. No one's gonna hurt you no more.

**No response.**

_Sir? You got a letter  
_

Thank you kindly, ma'am. And thank you for taking such good care of her for me.

_Its no trouble at all, isn't that right, Nina?_

**No response.**

Looks like I got another courier job, sissy. Gonna take me down to Hopeville. Nice paycheck too. NCR paycheck. Should pay up for your stay here for the rest of the year. 'S great, isn't it?

**No response. No. There. A frown. Maybe.**

Don't be like that sissy, I won't be gone to long. I'll get you somethin real pretty when I get back, too.

**Why wouldn't it stop, why wouldn't it stop make it stop make it stop everything hurt he didn't wanna see anymore I DONT WANT TO SEE ANYMORE. Another shift.**

_I'm... I'm sorry, Mr. Mikaelson.. We did everything we could.  
_

What's going on?

_We're not sure how she got a hold of the scissors..._

What... scissors?

_Yes sir._

What do you mean?

_Mr. Mikaelson, sir, your sister is.._

Where is she?

_Sir? SIR if you would just listen!_

Where is she?

Sissy..

Nina..

WHERE ARE YOU...

**A hallway stretched out in front of him, endless, the world tipped and swayed. He didn't want to see.. didn't want to see..**

**Please don't make me see anymore..**

_Half the caps on delivery to Vegas, the rest when you get back here, son. Just sign on the line here.  
_

What a weird package. A Platinum chip?

_Yep, wasn't even the first of the weird ones. Last one I sent out was fuzzy dice._

Vegas folk ain't right, swear.

_I hear that, son. By the way, might wanna go around the long way. Radio's been reportin some nasty critters have taken up there on the 15._

Heh.. I'm not worried about it. Take care, Mr. Nash.

_Hey, wait, you didn't list any next of kin!_


	6. Jase

"....ou think he's... wake up?" "He may not. Maybe...buttercup.. next of kin" "...hink there is any, and would you stop calling him that?"

The voices were loud.

"Jealous?" "No, don't be dumb. He probably would punch you for it."

"Do you think so?" "I don't know. Maybe. I would."

He was trying to sleep.

"I think he would laugh."

"Yeah well, what do you know?" 

Jase just wanted them to shut up already.

"Not much more, from what ...told me."

"Look doc, no offense but shut the fuck up."

Jase groaned and pulled the pillow over his face. 

"...onne it's alright, he doesn't mean any harm.."

"I'm just concerned is all. It's been almost a week. Most cases of catatonic episodes don't...."

"...at you're saying is he may never...."

"-ullshit... gunshot... spite..."

Okay, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Nina, Andrew, shut the fuck up already? I'm awake, Jesus," and opened his eyes.

* * *

It had been almost five days now, and Boone was at the end of his rope. He was worried, felt guilty. The doctor was as irritating as ever and was pushing the last of his buttons. It was pretty clear that Veronica was getting antsy too. He may not have had anywhere to be, himself, it wasn't as if she had needed to continue sticking around. He decided, should Mik not wake up soon, that he'd likely take his rifle and his pack and walk in the direction of the nearest Legion camp. Take out as many of the bastards as he could before he died. At least that way he'd stop inflicting himself on other people.

"Do you think he'll wake up?" Veronica was tugging at a length of hair that had freed itself from the hood she always wore. She had been sitting and chatting with Doctor Touchy-feely when he entered the tent.

"He may not. It may be time to contact Buttercup's next of kin." The Doctor replied to her, his head bent over a clipboard full of paperwork.

Boone felt a shiver of irritation crawl up his spine, "I don't think he has any, and would you stop calling him that? He has a name."

He felt an elbow poke his ribs, and he sighed, reflexively swatting it away, "Boone, you're not jealous are you?"

"No, don't say dumb things, Veronica." He glared down at her, and she snickered. "I think if he was awake, he'd probably punch you."

Now they were both grinning at him, and it rankled in a way he couldn't explain. So he didn't bother to try and figure it out.

"You think so?" Richards asked, the tone of his voice so genuine that it made him sigh again.

"I don't know. Maybe. I would."

Veronica snickered. Richards let the clipboard drop onto his desk, "I think he might laugh, honestly."

Boone grumbled, "Yeah well, what do you know?"

"Not much more then you, Mr. Boone. At least from what Veronica here told me."

Boone took his sunglasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, "No offense doc? But shut the fuck up."

"Boone it's alright. Relax, Alex doesn't mean any harm. Besides, you said so yourself that he'd probably find it funny the other night." Another elbow in the ribs by Veronica. He really wasn't sure all the shit he was getting from the shitty army medic and the burlap princess was worth all the hassle. Also, Alex... great, they were on a first name basis already. Dammit.

"She's right. I'm just as concerned with the situation as you are, Mr. Boone. Most cases of Catatonia brought on by PSTD triggers don't tend to last this long. It could be caused by the extensive damage to his brain, and I don't honestly have the medical equipment here to be able to begin to check. The Followers might, but they're in Vegas, which is a three day walk from here at best. I doubt our Bu... patient there is going to be getting up and walking in that state."

Boone frowned, "Do you really think he's just.. never going to wake up?"

Dr. Richards nodded gently, "Its a real possibility."

He felt the heat of rage he had been swallowing for a few days rise up into his throat, and despite his better judgement, grabbed at the mans shirt, "Bullshit. He survived a gunshot to the head. Scared the shit out of Great Khans so bad they pissed themselves. I've seen him go toe to toe with a Legion hit squad and not even fucking blink. That guys taken surviving out of spite to a level even I haven't. He'll wake up." Then he let go of the mans shirt, because if he kept holding it, he was going to hit him. If he did, they'd all be tossed out on their asses.

"Mr.Boone, please. I am a medical professional after all. I'm not just.."

"...drew, shut the fuck up already? M' awake, Jesus..."

The sound of Mik's voice hit him like a punch to the gut. He froze in place for a moment, trying to make his brain work again. When it started turning over again, he shoved past the curtain blocking the bed from view, "Mik?"

* * *

"The fuck.." Jase sat up and rubbed his eyes. His head throbbed and couldn't remember falling asleep. Had he gotten drunk? He couldn't remember if he had, but it must have been a hell of a celebration with the hangover he had. He went to push the hair out of his face...

"AH, FUCK. What the hell! Did I get into a fist fight or somthin? Jes...us..." the words fell from his lips. This room was not his bedroom.

"Mik!" A pair of unfamiliar arms threw themselves around him, hugged, "Fuck man we thought you'd never wake up!"

"He's awake? He's awake! ALEX HE'S AWAKE!" A female voice, not his sisters. What the fuck??

"I can see that Veronica. Mr. Boone I'm going to need you to let go of my patient so I can take a good look at him, if you would?" A third voice? Who the fuck???

The thickly muscled arms released him, and was promptly replaced with the face of a dark haired man with equally dark eyes, "Welcome back to the world of the living." There was a bright light, and he flinched away from it.

"Ow. Fuck."

"Well, I see he knows how to swear. Do you know where you are right now?" The dark eyes were checking him over and it made Jase incredibly uncomfortable. Land of the living?

"Land of the livin? Obviously not where I thought I'd be.." He muttered, flinching away from a second beam of light the man flashed in his eyes. A little flashlight, he registered after a few moments of blinking. "Why does my head.."

Something inside of him broke as the realization washed over him. He wasn't home. Didn't have one of those anymore. Hadn't been drunk. The corners of his eyes stung, and he laughed, because it was the only thing he could do to keep from curling inside himself and crying himself dehydrated. It wouldn't do with company in the room. No. Later, he told himself. Later.

He looked away from the unfamiliar face, letting his gaze land across the faces of the other two in the room. He squinted, taking a few moments to get a good long look at them. The voices. The one who'd hugged him. Slowly, the wheels in his brain stopped stalling over 'couldn't even die to be with them, coward' and managed to spit a name out at him, "Boone?"

The blonde man smiled at him. A real, true smile. It felt like that was a rare thing. No, it was a rare thing. Yes, he'd been traveling with the man for a little bit. _My wife was taken by Legion slavers._ Shit. He remembered why he'd been so drawn to him, and it stung a little in his chest.

"Glad you're awake Mik, it's been a minute."

A hand slapped Boone on the shoulder. Attached to it was the other face. He didn't know this one though. He felt his whole face frown as he looked her over. Pretty thing, taller then Boone by half a head and.. more brawny under all that brown...

"Veronica." There it was. He'd only met her last night?

The smile she gave him lit her whole damned face up. "That's me. Welcome back cowboy."

He turned back to the dark eyes still scanning him. They where attached to a fairly handsome man in a lab coat. "Uh.. guessin you're a doctor, then?"

The man chuckled, scooping his wrist up into his hand. There was pressure, and Jase frowned slightly as he glanced down. The man was pressing his fingertips into his wrist and mouthing something. Counting. Checking his pulse. It was all to surreal for him. He took a few deep, slow breaths, trying to shake off the ache in his heart. He had half expected to wake up in his own bed, but the longer he was awake, the more stupid that sounded in his own head. The fuck had happened?

"The fuck happened?"

This time it was Boone who chuckled, the relief written all over the mans face, "Your guess is as good as ours."

"We think you had a PTSD attack, Mr..?" The doctor spoke, finally releasing his wrist.

That was weird. How did a doctor not know his name? Hadn't Boone or Veronica told him? "Jase, Jase Mikaelson..."

"Jase huh? Mik a nickname then? Well, Jase, it's nice to meet you. I'm Alex Richards, and yes I'm a doctor."

Mik? No... "No, why would I... shit."

"Shit?" Boone raised an eyebrow

"God damnit, did I really think my name was Mik? Fuckin Benny."

A chuckle from Boone caused him to shift his gaze again. The man had his arms crossed over his chest, but he looked relaxed, if a little weary around the edges. Jase managed to give him a reassuring smile. He needed a drink. Or .. fuck, something. Needed to kill that fucker who couldn't manage to fucking doubletap. Put him out of his misery. It had been why he'd taken that fucking job. Walk the long 15 and maybe get mauled by a deathclaw or something on the way into Vegas. He sighed, shifted in the bed, rotating his shoulder blade. Every part of him was sore, and he furrowed his brow.

"Okay. So. How the sam hell did I end up in here?" He gestured to the room, no not room, half a corner of a tent maybe, they were all squished into.

"We carried you here," Boone spoke up.

Jase was pretty sure that this was the most Boone had spoken in front of more then himself in... hell... "How long was I out?"

Veronica shook her head, "It's been about a week, give or take a day. The swearing's new though, so that's fun. I almost feel honored to hear it."

"The swearing's not new"

"It is! He never swore in front of me before. Should I be worried something broke in there and he's not as polite as he used to be?"

A fucking week... jesus marry mother in...

"No Veronica, I'm sure Mr. Mikaelson is just a bit disoriented is all. You're pulse is good though, strong. And there's no irregular dilatation of your pupils. How's your head?" Dr. Richards hands wrapped around his head and he instinctively pulled away.

"Hurts like a motherfucker, why?"

Dr. Richards, Alex? He smiled at that, and made a second attempt to hold his head still, "Stay still a moment, buttercup, I'm almost done," he murmured, running a finger across the scar tissue on Jase's scalp.

"Buttercu-OW! Buttercup? Careful, that shits not solid yet."

Boone grumbled, Veronica laughed, and Dr. Richards gave him a warm smile, "Mmh, on account of how handsome you are. So the damage to your skull isn't still fully healed, thank you for the conformation on that. Does your head hurt all the time? Not just the outside when you bump it, but headaches?"

He felt his cheeks grow hot, and he cleared his throat, "Usually."

The doctor nodded, letting his hands fall away, "And now?"

Jase paused, thinking, "No. Yes? It's hard to tell. I don't rightly think I remember what it's like for my head not to feel like its split open." He had to admit though, it didn't hurt like it had been, "Don't quite hurt like usual though. Duller."

"And you remember your name, but couldn't before, right? How much more do you remember?"

Jase felt himself grow quiet. He remembered it all. Didn't wanna talk about it with doctor good lookin. Wouldn't make it less real. "Enough."

The doctor nodded again, and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, "Well, it seems like everything is in order. I'll keep you here another day for observation, but this really isn't more then a field medics tent. I'd suggest your partners here get you up and moving on to Vegas. There's a Followers camp in Freeside that can assess the damage to your head better then I ever could with what I've got here." Then he turned towards Boone and Veronica, "We really can't thank you, all three of you, enough for the help you gave us. Between the extra medical supplies, keeping the Legion off our backs, finding our missing shipment.. it's rather incredible, honestly. If the Mojave was full of folks like you, we'd have won this war a long time ago."

Jase looked at Boone and Veronica. They'd done all that while he'd been down and out? "You two'er somethin else, for sure."

Dr. Richards turned back towards him, "I only wish I could do more to help you, honestly. Even your initial assistance, before, was a huge help. So don't get down on yourself for being ill. It happens to the best of us. Besides, you apparently have the best judge of character I've ever seen, to have recruited these two."

Jase smiled warmly at the doctor. Despite everything, he wondered if maybe lady luck had deigned to be kind to him, for once.

* * *

It was late. Well, maybe it was early, when Boone settled down in the chair next to Mik. The Doc had retired early into the twilight hours, and Veronica had been half asleep when he'd kicked her out of the medical tent. If they were gonna head out to Vegas in the morning, he needed her rested. Just in case. Didn't really matter what time it was, he was more used to being awake at night then not. He took his beret off and ran his hand over his head, the buzz cut tickling the palm of his hand. Was getting a little long. Maybe he could have one of them cut it once they.. once they got settled in Vegas? Wasn't sure what the plan was, exactly. If they really were going to hunt that Benny guy, it might take weeks. Might not. Might not be staying in nice hotel beds, but running from those securitron things that patrolled the streets. Wasn't sure he liked the idea of them messing with one of House's tribes, but wasn't any more dangerous then walking into a Legion camp.

"I almost forgot what'cha looked like with out the hat on." 

Boone jumped out of his skin, sighed, "Thought you were sleeping."

Shit eating grin in the bed next to him laughed, "I was, but Veronica's real noisy for someone so, no.. she ain't little so I guess she makes the right amount of noise."

Boone smirked back at him. Yeah he could see that. She kind of clunked a bit when she walked. "Maybe from growing up in a bunker."

Mik shifted in the bed, turning towards him and propping himself up on an elbow, "You actually talk to her while I was... out?"

Boone nodded, slipping the beret back onto his head, "Yeah, a little."

"Huh, almost jealous, you two gettin to spend so much time gettin to know one another," Mik's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and Boone felt a pang of worry. What had the man remembered that put such sadness behind his eyes?

He wanted to ask, but he didn't. Wasn't his business. Instead, he shrugged, "She talks a lot."

Mik laughed, "You've said that before. What'd you two talk about?"

Boone shrugged again, "Stuff."

"You gotta gimmie more'n that man, I've been asleep fo- "

"I'm sorry." Boone sighed, cutting him off, letting his head fall. He couldn't.. it was his fault that Mik had gone through that. Had to be. He couldn't just leave it. He should, would be better, but he couldn't.

Mik tilted his head, "Sorry for what?"

Boone gestured towards the bed, "Shouldn't have pushed you." He felt his chest tighten and he couldn't figure out why, but he didn't want to either.

"You pushed me? When?"

Boone sighed, "No. I mean.. I shouldn't have pressed it."

Mik was quiet for a long moment. Probably thinking about it. He figured it was best to pull the bandage off fast, "If you don't want me following anymore, I'd understand."

"Boone. Look at me."

Boone lifted his gaze towards the man in the bed. He was frowning at him. Boone sighed. Yeah he figured. It was true.

"Do you...? Boone, man you really think I'd blame you for all that?" 

Boone nodded, because he couldn't answer out loud. If he kept talking then he'd probably say something that pissed him off, and that would be worse.

"That's just dumb. I was always gonna remember eventually. If anything I'm glad you were there. If I'd been out in the wastes by myself? Hell, I'd be deader then I shoulda been in Goodsprings. You n Veronica dragged my sad sack half a days walk to make sure I didn't, yeah?" Mik's frown had lightened slightly, and those green eyes of his were boring into him in a way that made Boone all together uncomfortable.

Boone nodded again, swallowed the lump growing in his throat, "Yeah."

"Then you're a goddamed hero in my book. Not travelin with me.. the fuck would you ever think I wouldn't want that? I'm the one who told you we'd go Legion huntin together. Ain't about to break that promise any time soon." Mik's hand landed on Boone's knee, patting it gently. Boone would have hit anyone else who touched him with out permission. Mik though? No. Wasn't sure why it caused him to swallow hard again though. Was hotter in the medical tent then he would have figured.

"Shit, if anything I owe you one. Another one, most like. Anyway, forget it about it. Once the doc springs me, we're headed to Vegas to put the fear of God into Benny. Can't do that with out my right hand man, now can I?"

Boone felt himself smile, "Yeah."

Mik grinned right back, "After that fuck dies, I'll buy you a drink at every bar in Vegas. We'll celebrate, pain the town red n shit. A real shindig. Ain't never been to Vegas myself"

Boone rolled his eyes, "I guess. How are we going to get to him though? Didn't those Khans say he was some high ranking shmuck at that casino?"

Maybe Mik hadn't noticed that his hand was still on Boone's knee. Boone noticed. He was keenly aware of it. It still hadn't moved when he answered, "I figure we'll just walk in, casual as you like, and play a game or two of cards. I'm great at cards."

He had to clear his throat before he replied, but he got the idea nevertheless,"Have me scope out the place while you play?"

"Yep, figure we'll drop girly off at whatever place she fancies, too. No need to attract attention. Leave the bot with'er and see what we can see." Mik winked at him, and he felt the heat in his chest creep farther up his neck. The hell was wrong with him?

"Alright, Mik, sounds like a plan. Better then what I thought you were gonna do."

Mik's face fell slightly, which just confused him. Had he said something wrong?

"Did you think I was gonna go in guns blazin or somethin?"

Boone laughed, "Maybe."

Mik nodded, "Sounds like I need to work on my temper then. Never did like gettin angry, honest. Just had a lot on my mind... Hah! If that ain't a lie." The laugh that came after was hollow. Almost bitter. Boone felt frustrated that he couldn't quite pinpoint what had shifted the mood in the room. Maybe it was just the idea that he would think that about Mik. Wasn't a big deal. Didn't need to keep dwelling on it. Told himself to stop staring into the green eyes that kept staring right back. Stupid. He forced himself to smile, needed to say something.. anything.

While he was busy trying to make his brain work, Mik spoke first,"Hey Boone....?"

"Yeah?"

"I.. could you call me Jase?"

Boone rose an eyebrow. He wanted to be called something else?

Mik chuckled, a nervous sound, "Yeah. Mik's my name too, but..it's such a shit name. Work nickname, yanno? Not a lotta folk can get Mikaelson round their mouths when they're yellin for help." He sighed, "Been a long time since anyone used my name is all. Real long time..."

He looked so very, very sad. Boone knew that look all to well. Knew what he meant about the first name thing. First names were for... friends. Hard to have friends in the Mojave. So, he nodded slowly, "Yeah, Jase.. I can." He paused for a moment, "If you call me Craig."

M-Jase's face lit up like the Vegas strip, "Alright Craig. Fuckin... I can't believe your name is Craig of all things. You don't look like a Craig. Well, no I kinda see it.Yeah. Like what Eddie meant."

"Fuck you. And what about the bot?" Craig leaned forward and shoved at Jase's shoulder gently.

"Hey hey, careful, I'm a delicate Butter cup, don't you know." There it was. That shit eating grin.

Boone felt himself groan, and he rolled his eyes. He knew it was going to be a thing. Jase was NEVER going to shut up about it.

"Prettier n' a peach, the doc thinks. Maybe I'll take up shakin my ass in one of them bars once Benny's dead. Done a lot of shit jobs before, but never done that. Think I'd be any good?" Jase wiggled his eyebrows. Boone scooped the cowboy hat up off the table next to them and hit him with it a few times.

"Ow ow okay okay," he was laughing.

Boone half wondered if maybe there was a space heater hooked up somewhere, the other half thinking about how nice it was to hear that laugh, "You'd be terrible at it. Way to much of you."

"Well damn you don't gotta bruise my fragile ego," Jase grinned at him, and Boone felt himself grin right back.

"Like a peach, soft. What did the bot say?"

Jase laughed harder, falling to his back, "Said you reminded him of some kinda secret agent, like in them old comics."

Boone grumbled. Stupid bot. Of course, that only caused Jase to keep right on laughing. Which was alright with him.


	7. Caps: Part One

Veronica pulled her powerfist from the pulpy mass of gore that had been the face of one of those junky raiders who liked to ambush travelers and took a deep breath. She took a quick look around her, the blood still pumping in her ears. Were there more, or had the other two mopped up after she'd launched herself headfirst into the fray? She caught the shine of Boone's scope reflecting the sun, and instinctively dropped to the ground as a bullet whizzed past her head. She held her breath and counted down from ten. Nine... Eight... Seven... Six. A sharp whistle echoed around her, bouncing off the crumbling buildings, and she let herself breath. After another moment or or two she blew the stray hair, sweaty and covered in dirt, out of her face and pulled herself back up to her feet. Mik jogged up to her as she rubbed nose with her left hand.

"Remind me never to get in a fist fight with you darlin," He said, flashing her a grin. Boone wasn't far behind, a disgruntled Eddie in toe, beeping about how he didn't understand why the spiky fleshbags kept thinking it was a good idea to attack them.

Veronica put her free hand on her hip and flashed a smile right back, "I know what you mean Eddie. Nice shot Boone, though a little more warning would be nice."

Boone's sunglasses glinted in the sunlight, "I don't miss."

Mik laughed and clapped the shorter man on the shoulder, "Lemme translate for you. Boone says he's sorry, but if he hadn't taken the shot you woulda lost that pretty head of yours to one of them fiends. Can't have that, now can we?"

Boone grunted, as if both incredibly annoyed by and confirming Mik's 'translation'. It only caused the cowboy to pat Boone's shoulder again, which in turn caused Boone to sigh.

What was she going to do with these two men? They were nearly to Vegas, another hour or two. What would happen once Mik had finished what he'd set out to do? She'd only know then a little more then a week, but she'd gotten used to their idiosyncrasies. Mik's easygoing nature and Boone's quiet reflections had sort of.. settled somewhere in her chest reserved for family. Not that she'd admit that to either of them. Mik would be insufferable, and she was pretty sure Boone would shoot her. Well, maybe not shoot her, but he would probably tell her to fuck off. She shook those thoughts out of her head and settled with asking, "So, what are we doing once we get to Vegas? Shopping spree? Murder spree? Maybe both? Ooh, can we get a room in one of those fancy hotels? I could stand a hot bath. So could both of you."

Mik glanced down at himself, then over towards Boone, "A bath? Darlin, why would I wanna go and ruin my 'ruggedly handsome rolled in mud' look?"

Boone smirked, "She's right, you stink."

Mik gasped in mock distress, grabbing at his chest, "My poor heart! You've gone and broke it!"

Veronica could feel Boone's eyes roll from behind those sunglasses. She shook her head in amusement and glanced over at Eddie, "I say we ditch them both and go watch the dancers."

Eddie beeped cheerfully back at her, implying that he thought it was an excellent idea. Furthermore, did she know that those two morons had almost shot a hole in his armor? How was he supposed to protect them if they kept being so hard to protect? Veronica nodded to the little bot understandingly, catching the incredulous look Mik was giving them out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. They are rather reckless, aren't they?" She gave Mik a sideways glance and smirked, "How dare you two boys put poor Eddie in such stressful situations? For shame."

Eddie did a little circle in the air as he beeped accusingly at Mik. Yes! For Shame!

Mik sighed, "I'm sorry bud," and gave the bot a gentle pat.

Boone sighed, more loudly then was really necessary, "Are we walking, or what? Don't know how you two can understand him so well.." his voice trailing off into a grumble as he took point. Eddie beeped a huffy retort at Boone, but Veronica wasn't paying attention.

They were moving again and despite the fact that she needed to keep an eye out for any more ambushes, she was keenly aware that her question's hadn't been answered. Even though they'd all grown closer, small time frame or not, it often felt like she was on the outside, looking in. Mik and Boone just had a connection she couldn't quite intrude on. She wondered if it was because she'd shared so little of her own story. She also wondered if she was just putting to much thought into it. It had only been nine days. Besides, it wasn't as if the Brotherhood had ever been interested in her personality. No, other then Christine and Elijah, she was just the annoying kid sister who talked to much and had to many weird ideas.

* * *

The big glowing sign above the gate read FREESIDE, and as Jase stared up at it, he felt that coal of anger spark inside his chest. It was just through that gate. The revenge he wanted. Needed. Because Benny hadn't killed him. Had taken away his chance to go down swinging. Had taken away the death he had been walking towards since... He shook his head. No sense dwelling on it now. It was still coming for him, eventually. Just not tonight. No. Tonight they would go into Vegas, find a nice hotel room for Veronica to take a bath in, maybe get something to eat that wasn't half irradiated. He'd play a few rounds of blackjack, get the lay of the land, and plot his next move.

"Soooo are we going in, or are we just gonna stand around looking at it all night?" Veronica's cheery voice broke him out of his thoughts and he gave her a grin over his shoulder.

"Just gettin my bearin's darlin'. Think they got caravan in them casinos or something more fancy?"

Craig's voice rose up next to his shoulder, "Blackjack, poker. Slots."

Jase nodded, "Forgot you've been here before. So bit like them ones up in New Reno you think?"

"No, Nicer. Less Mob." Craig took his beret off and scratched the top of his head as he said it. Replaced it right quick. Never without the beret. He half wondered what it would take to get the man to take it off for longer then a few moments. If the buzzed hair beneath was as soft as it looked. It took Craig looking up at him impatiently for him to shake those kinds of things from his head. Wasn't the time. Was a hell of a distraction from the anger though. Maybe later.

"Alrighty then, lets go."

Jase took exactly three steps before his vision was full of white tee-shirt and black pompadour, "Were you goin, fella? Gotta pay the toll to get past." The mans lip was curled up in a snarl, but it wasn't any kind of threatening look. If anything, it was mildly comical.

"What in tarnation are you goin on about?" Jase asked, bemused. Beside him, Craig swore under his breath. Behind Craig, Jase heard the crack of Veronica's knuckles.

"There's a hunk o' caps you gotta pay to get into Freeside, you dig?" Two more men joined the first, each dressed exactly the same.

Jase chuckled, "Alright boys, humor me. How much?"

The first man frowned, and after a moment the three had huddled up, whispering with each other, nodding. The ringleader finally turned back around and grinned. Not a nice grin, "200 caps."

Jase shook his head as he continued to chuckle, "200 caps?"

The men looked over the group carefully before the one in the middle spoke again, "Each. Except the NCR cat. He's gotta shell out 300. On account of wearin that ugly hat. It's givin me a hunka hunka burnin heartburn to look at."

Jase looked down to Craig, still snickering slightly. The man was glaring daggers at the white shirt clowns in front of them. Jase took the moment to place both hands on his shoulders and spin him around on the spot, then gestured to Veronica to join their little circle.

"Whisper whisper whisper, blablabla 200 each except you that seems steep blablabah," he said quietly, then winked at the other two. It took them a moment, Craig a moment longer then Veronica, to get the general idea. They each started nodding in turn.

Jase tilted his head to look at the men standing in front of the gate, "It wont be but a minute fellas, we're countin'." Veronica knelt down to dig into her pack, or at least make a very good show of digging into her pack, tutting loudly that her caps pouch was so hard to find.

After a moment or two though, Jase pulled his pistol out of his belt, spun around on the toes of his boots, and pointed it directly into the chest of the man in the middle of the cluster.

All three men put their hands up. Good. Just like he figured. Not much but a shake down. Not even a good shake down, "So here's how I see it. You kind fellas are gonna step aside. I ain't in the mood to hurt none of ya'll tonight. I just wanna get my partners and I up through to Vegas before our show starts. So, ya'll step aside, and my friend Veronica here'll give you 100 caps, no questions asked, outa the goodness of our hearts. What was the sayin? Ya Dig?"

He flashed them his shit eating grin when they didn't answer, "Clocks tickin boys. See, I'm in a good mood tonight. My friend here though, he ain't never in a good mood. Only reason he ain't pulled the trigger yet is cause I asked him, real nice like, not to. Figure we could come to a deal. You boys like deals, yeah?"

Jase tilted his head in the direction he knew Craig would be in, and just as he figured, the man had his rifle trained on the group of men in front of them, "I don't miss."

Behind them, Veronica cheerfully said, "It's true, he doesn't."

The three men looked at each other slowly, "Y..yeah, yeah man, 100 caps is fine. Solid deal. I dig it."

Jase tipped his hat to the men, "Mighty kind of ya'll, gentlemen. Veronica?"

A small burlap sack bounced off the chest of the man on the right, and he scrambled to pick it up.

"Now, if ya'll excuse us, we've got an appointment" He tucked his pistol back into his belt, and pushed past them through the gate.


	8. He Can Have a Handsome Doctor, As a Treat

Arcade pulled his glasses off with a sigh, resting both elbows on the desk and rubbing his eyes. There was no use continuing to try and pull any meaning from the half burnt text in front of him. At least not today. He'd been at it for hours, weeks if he here being honest with himself. He loved reading, filling in the gaps of knowledge missing from old text, trying to capture the intent behind long dead authors. Medical texts were his undoing though. They always had been, and he'd spent far to long trying to get a firm grip on what was missing to be able to find the truth in between. He sat back in the chair, letting his head fall backwards and stretching his long legs out as best he was able in the cramped space.

He sighed again. Maybe a good walk around the fort would refresh his mind. Julie hadn't come to check up on him in a while, either. Which meant that either a fresh batch of junkies had stumbled through the gate, or she had been busy trying to patch up locals caught in the crossfire of the Kings and some idiots who'd crossed them. It wouldn't surprise him. Though what ever it had been, the cause hadn't been hectic enough to have summoned him for backup. Small favors. 

Yes, he thought, a walk would do him good. He could check in to see if Julie needed a pair of extra hands, maybe get a bite to eat. He pushed himself backwards in the chair, wincing only slightly when it squeaked across the stone floor in protest, scooped up his glasses, and headed towards the door.

* * *

Jase smiled easily at the young woman in front of him as she enthusiastically rambled off a list of ways they could help. He'd always liked the Followers. They were always eager to lend a hand, more often then not with out need of repayment. There were to few folk in the wastes genuinely that kind. And if she reminded him of his sister, well, it wasn't important. What was important was that he was short caps to get past the small brigade of securitrons guarding the second gate into Vegas. Combined the three of them had just over a thousand, not a small amount for anyone who traveled as lightly as they were. Wasn't enough though. So, he either needed to figure out how to get a passport, or make enough to pass the credit check.

He figured making the caps would probably be easier, and Veronica had reminded them that Dr. Richards had suggested they stop in and see the Followers anyway. Get his head checked by real medical professionals. When he'd spoken to Miss Farkas about it, the little doctors eyes had lit up like the glowing signs in the distance. It had been worth it just for that. Better yet, when he'd suggested that as return payment for the looksee they'd offer their services to help out around the area.

"..And you can probably check in with both the Kings and the Atomic Wrangler to see if either have any work for you. You have no idea how grateful we'd be for the help. Freeside has been struggling since Mr. House cut the city in half, and while the Kings are usually pretty great about keeping most of the folks here protected, we're stretched pretty thin trying to keep everyone patched up."

He gave her a gentle nod, "Thank you kindly, Miss. You're sure that's all we can do?"

"I'm sure if I can think of more I'll let you know. The Med-ex and Radaway you gave us alone will be a huge help. If you stumble across any Fixer while you're out and about I wouldn't say no to that either." She leaned to the side to smile at Veronica, who had been busy placing a stack of each in a crate beside them.

"I'll keep an eye out, Miss Farkas," Veronica said, standing back up as she finished.

"Oh," Julie's eyebrows furrowed a moment, then she smiled, "there's an idea.. Arcade!"

* * *

Arcade winced at the brightness of the sun as he stepped out of the doorway. He blinked several times before registering that it was nearing mid afternoon. He hadn't been staring at the books in the little lab nearly as long as he'd thought, but it didn't matter. What did matter was that when his vision came back to him, the first thing that caught his attention was an Eyebot. A jolt of panic surged through him, and it took a moment to realize that it was bobbing and weaving through a pack of travelers he didn't know. Maybe caravaners looking to get patched up? None of them looked particularly dangerous, although a second glance picked up on the red beret on top of the shortest of the group.

Was it a troupe of bounty hunters, then? Aided by the NCR? The woman dressed in brown seemed to be taking supplies out of her pack, and the tall one was wearing a cowboy hat and talking with Julie. Maybe he could slip out of the back gate with out them noticing him.

"Arcade!"

Shit.

Julie was waving him down, and the tall may speaking to her was looking in his direction. Shit shit shit. Okay. Okay Arcade you can do this. Julie was smiling, so maybe it wasn't as bad as he'd imagined. The man just looked mildly confused, green eyes shaded but curious. Pretty eyes, he noted absentmindedly, matched the dark red beard on his face. Handsome, but really it wasn't the time for such observations. What it was time for, was to steele himself with the hope that the bot was repurposed junk and nothing more serious. He took a deep breath and flashed Julie a smile. Yep. Just like that Arcade, nice and casual.

"Julie! What can I do for you dear?" He asked as he walked towards them, tucking his hands into his pants pockets. Casual, natural. There we go.

"Arcade, I'm glad you're here. Can you do me a favor?" She was smiling up at him as he strode up, stopping just a few steps away from the man next to her. He was almost as tall as Arcade was. What a weird thing to notice.

"Anything for you, Julie. What's up?" He rocked back and forth on his heels gently, trying to make himself as small and unassuming as possible. Not that he was very good at being small. Being taller then everyone had its disadvantages.

"Mr. Mikaelson, and his traveling companions, are offering to help out around Freeside in exchange for medical services. They've already gone above and beyond just with the Radaway they've donated. At least a months worth, it's incredible. So I was thinking, we aught to send a representative along with them. That way when they go speak with the King and the Garret Twins they wont come across any extra trouble. Plus.."

Arcade cut her off, "Julie, as flattered as I am with the idea that you'd think I would be the best person for the job, I am still working on the medical implications of Agave."

Julie huffed at him, "You didn't let me finish. Mr. Mikaelson here has a unique medical issue and it'll take time to secure use of the NCR's Auto-doc for a better look. So. You need a break, and he needs a doctor to make sure he doesn't over-extend himself while we're waiting."

Arcade rose an eyebrow. The man next to Julie, who had been quietly listening up until that point, removed his hat. Arcade's eyes widened as he took in the sight. The right side of the mans head was covered in a long shock of wine colored hair. The left side was shaved, and a raw, jagged scar cut the mans head in near-half. He blinked a few times, "Well, damn."

The man smiled, "Miss Farkas ain't wrong, sir. I could stand to have a good lookin' doctor around to keep me safe in the big, bad wasteland."

Okay, that was smooth. Arcade felt himself smile at the man, "Overt flirtation will get you everywhere, I must say." He had to admit, despite the mean scarring, the man was handsome. He shook his head and glanced over at Julie, who was down right sparkling with joy at the little exchange that had just transpired. When he turned his attention back to the man, he had his hand extended.

Arcade sighed and shook the hand, "Alright, but only because I need a break. On the condition that if I find out you're helping the Legion all bets are off."

"No worries there. If I to lose my marbles and help the Legion, my friend Boone here'll finish me off, sure as shi-sunday." The man had released his hand, and Arcade found himself somewhat surprised to see the red beret standing next to them. The cowboy placed both hands on the shorter one's shoulders and squeezed gently. Ahh.

The man, Boone he surmised, shrugged the hands off and grumbled a string of dark words about the legion. None of it was comprehensible, but Arcade got the general idea. Also, maybe not Ahh after all? He couldn't tell. More research was required, he decided.

The taller man chuckled, "We ain't no friends of the Legion, Mr. Arcade, rest assured."

"Gannon, if you must, but just Arcade is fine. And your name is Mikaelson?"

The man smiled, "Arcade it is then. Mik'll do just fine. As I said, this here is Boone. Ex-First Recon, if the hat ain't give it away." Then Mik gestured towards the young lady still digging around in her pack, "That there's Veronica."

The young lady looked up and gave him a big smile, "Nice to meet you, Arcade!"

"And the bot?" Arcade couldn't help himself. He had to know.

"Ahh, Eddie. Good buddy of mine. Found him broken in Primm, fixed him up right."

Arcade nodded. So he'd been right, sort of. He'd have to keep an eye on it, just in case, but it was very likely it's memory banks had long been wiped.

Julie was practically bouncing out of her boots, "Okay, so that's all settled? You'll go help them, get some fresh air, and keep an eye on, Mik did you say?"

Arcade sighed, "Yes I'll go with them," and gave Julie a look that clearly said 'You owe me for this'. She only grinned back at him, as if to say, 'he's cute, go'. He sighed again, "I'll get my things."

* * *

Boone grumbled to himself as he leaned against the wall by the gate. They were waiting for the Doctor to join them, and his first impression of the man was not a kind one. Were all doctors like that, or was he just unlucky enough to be traveling with the one man who could charm the pants off... well.. doctors? He guessed it was probably the latter. The way that man flirted with anyone who wasn't trying to kill him..

He sighed and pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. What did it matter to him who Jase flirted with? It wasn't as if he'd taken the other doctor all that seriously. But.. this one was tall. Yeah, tall and nerdy. Not swave like Dr. Buttercup had been. And Jase hasn't taken that seriously. Yeah. It didn't matter. Yeah. Yeah, and why did he care anyway? It was annoying. Especially since he could still feel Jase's hands on his shoulders...

"You good over there, broody?"

Veronica. He sighed again and folded his arms across his chest, "Yeah."

Veronica's face filled his vision, "You sure? You've barely said two words since Mik agree'd to let the doctor come with us."

Her grin was irritating, and he shrugged. He knew she meant well, but did she always have to pry? "Just tired."

"Uh huh. Well, sounds like one of the places we're headed to next is a hotel. We can get a room there while we're getting the caps to get into Vegas. Who ever heard of a credit check anyway? You'd think since he was supposed to deliver that package to the strip they woulda just let him in, but noooo. Stupid robots, no offense Eddie."

The little bot beeped. Might have been annoyed too. He could relate. "Yeah, strips locked down tighter then the last time I was here."

"Right? It's dumb. But, I don't mind. Julie's cute and if Mik thinks we can help..." Her voice trailed off, but the smile stayed.

Boone nodded. The state of Freeside had always bugged him, especially since the NCR didn't have the man power to dedicate assistance. Hadn't in the almost ten years they'd been in the Mojave. Boone glanced over towards Jase, who was still chatting up the other lady, Julie. He'd flirted with her, too, but she didn't seem at all interested. Instead she had been bursting with excitement at the idea of being able to examine Jase's head. The thought that Jase absolutely needed his head examined made him smirk, and the weight of his earlier agitation lifted slightly. Yeah. Maybe he'd tell Jase later about his joke. Bet he'd laugh.

Jase's voice brought him out of his thoughts, "We ready to head out?"

Boone pushed himself off the wall and nodded. Veronica slung her pack over her shoulder and gave a cheery, 'Yep!"

Jase nodded, "Alrighty then. Arcade sugested we start by introducin ourselves to The King. Hell of a name, but I guess he's the leader of those boys that tried to shake us down outside. There's a whole tribe'vm livin here in Freeside, keepin the locals safe, right?"

The tall blonde doctor stepped up next to Jase, nodding, "Yes. I'd wager you ran into some of their new recruits, if they tried to shake you down. Usually the King doesn't permit that sort of thing. So Julie is probably correct in her assumption that something's gotten them riled up."

"Well there you go then. Lets go give this King a proper Introduction, n we can stop over to that casino and rent a couple rooms. Poor Veronica's been complainin about needin a bath." Jase grinned at Veronica, who smirked back.

"Not for me, for you, stinky. C'mon."

Jase laughed and gestured towards the gate.

Boone sighed. Why had he agreed to come along, again?


	9. Sex Bot

He hadn't expected to be so tired. Bone tired in a way that he hadn't felt in real a long time. Wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Before Goodsprings he hadn't felt much of anything at all, and after, well. Didn't matter really. What mattered was that the King's issues had mostly been solved, the Followers supply lines had been restored, and the only thing left to do for the Garret twins...

Some times, you agree to do things with out really comprehending what it is you've agreed to do. The last thing they'd asked was definitely one of those things. If he were honest with himself he could just ask the King for a passport into Vegas, but somewhere along the way he'd decided that being owed a favor was better then cashing it in. Besides, it was almost a point of pride to be able to pass the credit check.

Upside, because of the help they'd given to the Garrets so far, they hadn't had to drop any caps on a room. Down side, it was only one room. So, they were sleeping in shifts, which wasn't all that different to how they had been handling things so far anyway. Veronica had been pleased as punch, they had real working bathtubs. Arcade and she had decided to take the room first. Which suited him just fine. What didn't suit him, was that now it was up to himself and Craig to handle the last request of the Garrets.

He stared into the glass in front of him and sighed. Didn't much like drinking, but for this task, he needed one. Craig hadn't seemed all that thrilled either, and was sat beside him, nursing a fourth beer.

How in the hell were they supposed to find a sexbot?

Well, no, they knew exactly where to find a bot that would fit the bill, thanks to the help of Mick. Had even bonded over the similarity of their names, offered to make a program for free, which was right nice of him all things considered. The request was so fuckin weird though. Worse still was the fact that James had been so insistent that it was for a "High roller" that it gave Jase the impression that it absolutely wasn't. Welp, to each their own, he guessed. Fuckin weird or not.

He took a deep breath and then downed the rest of his whiskey. Winced a little at the burn, but it did the job of curing his reservations.

"You bout ready to do this?"

Craig cringed and drank down the remainder of his own drink, "No. Fuck. Yes. So weird."

He chuckled, "I know man, I know. C'mon. Faster we do this, faster it's done," and gave him a pat on the back before standing.

* * *

Veronica sat on the edge of the bed, towel drying her hair as she watched Arcade head in to take his own bath. She'd half-decided in the last 24 hours that if she was going to take on Operation Find Mik a Friend that she needed to start by carefully weighing her options. Not that she had a ton of options at the current moment, obviously, but that wasn't going to stop her. It just made it more difficult. It was more then clear that Arcade was an option, at least on the surface. Mik clearly thought Boone was an option, and despite her better judgement she'd started seeing signs that the quiet man might actually be open to it as well. She still didn't know the full story there though, and she hesitated to push that. If only because of the whole wife situation.

She sighed and flopped back onto the bed, stretching out. Wasn't quite as comfortable as she had been hoping, but it was much better then sleeping on the ground. A cold, wet nose pushed in to her free hand and she smiled, gently patting the robo-dog who had come seeking affection. The memory of how Mik had spent time showing the poor thing that his cowboy hat and Boone's beret weren't dangerous caused the smile to grow. He really was to gentle for the wastes sometimes, she thought, and wondered exactly what sort of folk had raised him. He didn't seem like the type who came from a vault, despite the pip-boy, not enough old world knowledge or scientific leanings. Not like their Follower friend at all in that department. No. It had to be due to family upbringing maybe. Or a past lover.

Rex whined, and she shifted to look down at him, "I'm not saying you can come up, Rex. I mean, if you did I wouldn't stop you either, but I can't _say_ it's okay."

Rex wiggled. Not just his tail or his back end, but the whole dog, and then she was being smothered by fur and metal and warm puppy kisses. She laughed, "Alright alright, lay down if you're gonna be up here. There you go, that's a good boy."

Once Rex was settled, she turned and twisted in the bed to angle herself just right to give ear scratches as she continued to work out what exactly her plan would be. "Alright Rex. If you were a matchmaker, what would you do? Find excuses to get them together? Maybe encourage him to visit one of the working folk here in the wrangler? It's not like I know for sure Mik's into guys anyway. He kind of flirts with everyone. I think it's his default mode."

Rex didn't respond, obviously, and when she glanced down at him the poor old thing was fast asleep. She smiled, catching a yawn with her hand. "Yeah, maybe we just go to sleep and worry about it tomorrow. Sounds like a good plan bud."

* * *

Arcade waited quite a while after Veronica had fallen asleep before returning to the room. It was clear that the young woman was up to something the way she had been encouraging everyone to talk, hanging back when clearly she aught to be up front. Based on what he'd manage to overhear of her conversation with the dog, he had been right. Well, right and wrong. It sounded as if Veronica felt the same, that Mik and Boone had something, at least the beginnings of something. That was far enough, he supposed. Despite the fact that the cowboy was smooth and relatively handsome, it didn't particularly shock him that he'd formed a bond with the other man. It happened when you traveled together with people. From what little he'd seen over the last day or so of the man, Veronica was also incorrect. There was a difference in how Mik acted towards strangers, or those he perceived as strangers at least.

With women, Mik was polite. Charming, sure, but nothing in action or word was anything but respectful. Whomever had raised him had taught him manners, and it was if he was going above and beyond in some cases to honor that. He'd seen it with Julie, and how he interacted with Veronica. Even with Francine Garret and the one woman that owed the Garret twin's money. It was endearing, to say the least. As for men, Mik was openly flirtatious, but only to those who Arcade himself would wager to guess would be open to such things. With The King he'd been quiet and respectful. With Jason he'd been friendly and open. With others he'd displayed a playful demeanor but those who were dangerous often saw a serious and reserved face. Mik was likely many things, but being unable to read the room wasn't one of them.

Arcade sat down on the couch as he contemplated. He'd only known the three of them for less then a full day, but he liked them. If he was mildly disappointed that Mik possibly had eyes for someone else, it was irrelevant. Veronica was cheerful and open, Boone was quiet and reserved but far more intelligent then he let on. All of them had broken pieces, parts that were closed off, that was clear enough, but then who in this day and age wasn't? He himself was plenty broken, with all that he kept close to the cuff and masked with dry humor. Julie had been right, as she often was. If she hadn't been so earnest and kind he'd find her insufferable. He needed this. Spend some time away from the books and work to make a real impact. A difference in the world that he couldn't do stuck behind a book.

He gave a long look to the bed and the figures tucked in it. He chuckled, Veronica coiled tightly up to the half-robot dog they'd acquired. The poor thing needed to see a doctor, one he was very familiar with, actually, but it wasn't information he was going to share with the group. When it was time to head that direction, he himself would likely chose to stay behind. No need to poke the bear, so to speak. He sighed, stretching out on the couch. It was a bit short but he guess he'd have to make due. Next time though, he was making Veronica sleep on the couch.

* * *

Boone couldn't help but chuckle as he watched. Jase had clambered up on top of a desk and was making the most ridiculous noise he'd ever heard another grown man make, "Can't believe you're scared of rats."

"Fuck you," was all the words Jase managed to come up with.

He laughed as he offered the man his hand, "I got'm all. Does the princess need a hand getting down?"

Jase sighed and gave him a look that might have actually killed anyone else. Boone only grinned and kept his hand on offer. Surprisingly, Jase's hand clasped around his and Boone tugged, helping to pull the taller man off the desk.

"They're just.. bleh yanno? I seen what a hoard of them big rats can do to a bramin. Ain't real pretty. Gives me the hebejebies."

Boone nodded, "You're not wrong. Just funny. Didn't think you were scared of anything." He grinned up at Jase, who laughed sheepishly and rubbed at the back of his neck with a free hand. The other hand was still firmly clasped with his. He found himself staring at it for a moment longer then made him comfortable, and his face flushed as he pulled his hand free.

Stupid.

Jase chuckled as he slung his rifle over his shoulder, "Just don't go tellin no one. Last thing I need is Veronica goin," Jase cleared his throat and attempted, poorly, to raise his voice a few octives, "Oooh Mik, yer sca.. nope, can't do her voice."

Boone felt his annoyance at himself subside and managed a grin, "Yeah." No one needed to give Veronica any more fuel to tease them. Nor Arcade, though he didn't know the man well enough to say if he would. Probably, since it seemed he was on snark mode pretty consistently. "Your secret is safe with me."

Jase smirked at that. Stupid smug face, "Lets find this bot."

"Think it's around the corner actually. Where I killed the last rat."

"Great," Jase winked and headed in the direction he'd pointed. Boone gave himself half a minute to be annoyed again before following.

Stupid winking stupid smug face stupid warm hands what was wrong with him. What was wrong with him? Why did he kept reacting like that to Jase? Never reacted like that to any other guy. Had been half the reason why Manny and Carla hadn't gotten along. Manny never said, but he'd figured it out pretty quickly. Why else would his best friend not like her so much? Other women sure, but she'd never been anything but sweet to Manny. Had to be that, right? So what was his deal all of a sudden?

"Fuck me"

Boone rose an eyebrow as he turned the corner, "Problem?"

Jase slapped the computer console on the wall in frustration, "Yeah fuckin problem. Console's locked. Start searchin the desks for a password or somethin. God damnit I hate computers sometimes."

* * *

As Jase rummaged around in several old filing cabinet drawers, checking to see if any of them had a holotape stuffed under the rotting paper and bits of trash, he tried his very best not to think about the way Craig had looked at him. Offering a hand like some kind of storybook hero. Staring at their clasped hands with that blush on his face... or pulling away like his hand was made of something disgusting. He needed to be more careful. Craig wasn't into it, that was more then fine. Even if he was, the man was in no shape to be entertaining such things. Jase didn't know how long ago that had all gone down, but he knew from personal experience that trying to jump into another relationship straight away with out mourning was the worst possible idea. It had been long enough now that he could let Andrew rest, but jumping straight in with Lisa only weeks afterward had been... well just a bad fuckin idea.

He swore under his breath and moved on to the next bank of drawers, flipping the pip-boy flashlight on before diving in to search. Besides, it didn't even make sense. Jase has never been big on soldier boys before. Drew was about as different from Craig as night and day. Drew had been nearly as tall as he was. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin. Softer too, all the way around. A scholar, always readin books and fixin things. The Pip-boy had belonged to him. To his family. It's why Jase had it. A gift given when he'd taken up courier work all those years ago. To keep track of his route back home, he'd said. Jase wasn't even sure if it still had the old routes programmed anymore. He'd check later, when he had a moment to himself. So why was he so drawn Craig? It bugged the shit out of him. Maybe he aught to spend more time around Arcade or something.

Fuck, not here either. He moved on to the last section and pulled open the top drawer roughly, the metal squeaking in protest. He didn't like thinking about Drew anymore then he liked the idea of taking advantage of Craig. Halfway into chastising himself some more, his hand touched something hard.

Fuckin finally. He wrapped his fingers around it and pulled. It wasn't until a moment later that he felt the sting.

"FUCK!" He pulled his hand back out of the drawer, a long rusted mouse trap hanging off of it. Of fucking course there was a mouse trap. His day couldn't possibly be going any other way.

"Hey I think I.. is that a mouse trap?" Craig walked up, holding a holotape in his hands.

Jase sucked in a sharp breath as he pried the ridiculous thing off of his hand, "Yeah it's a goddamned mouse trap. Because of course it is. Wanna check and see if we got any alcohol in one of the packs? Think I'm bleedin. Cause I need tetanus."

Craig nodded and set the holotape down long enough to pull a bottle out, "Whiskey."

Jase rolled his eyes, "Pour that on my hand?"

Craig unscrewed the cap as he held his hand out, turning his head away as the liquid hit the wound. He hissed in pain, the brown liquid burning on contact. After a moment of dripping blood and booze all over the floor, Craig produced a few clean rags and a stim pack out of the bag as well.

"Thanks man, " he took the rag strips and began to wrap his hand. "Least it's not my trigger hand. I fuckin hope James is ready to pay us triple what he offered for this shit. Fuckin super weird. Who'd wanna mess around with a robot except him anyway?"

"Wait you think it's for James?"

"Yeah of course. Guy went on and on and on about how it was for a 'extra special high roller" like if he kept sayin it, it'd be true. You think you found the password?" Jase finished wrapping his hand and pulled the cap off the stim pack needle with his teeth. Three, two, fuckin needles. But it had stopped throbbing already and Jase knew that in a few hours it would be near functioning again.

When he looked up, Craig was holding the holotape again, but now looked as if he were allergic to the thing. "Yeah, this it?"

"Wont know till we check, leme see." Jase took the holotape from him, lifted his wrist, and pushed a button on the side of his Pip-boy. A hatch opened, and he stuffed the thing inside, closing it with a snap. The screen sprung to life, 'Password: Password.'

"ARE YOU FUCKIN.."

"What?" Craig grabbed at his wrist, pulling the pip-boy towards him to look.

"Of all the stupid, mother fuckin, goddamned..."

Craig's face split into a wide grin and he laughed. Full blown, side splitting, actual letting go to stoop over, laughter. And it was infectious. Jase felt the curse words and anger die on his lips as the laughter welled up inside and burst out. He laughed so hard he couldn't even stand up, his legs giving out entirely, plopping to the ground. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it wasn't funny, but it was. It was so utterly ridiculous, the whole goddamned ordeal. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he sucked in a deep breath, only to keep right on laughing. Craig had joined him on the floor at some point, pressing his forehead against Jase's shoulder as they laughed. The realization of his closeness was finally what managed to calm the laughter burning a hole in his lungs and he took another deep breath, trying to will air back in. Trying to rationalize away the warmth spreading through his core and trying to resist the urge to wrap his arms around him.

It took Craig a few more moments of breathing to calm down enough to look up at him. Jase caught his eyes with his own and couldn't help but sit there and stare in quiet awe. There it was. The reason he found himself so attracted. When Craig laughed, smiled, looked as if for a half moment the weight of the goddamed universe wasn't trying to swallow him entirely, the mans whole face lit up like the sun bursting through the clouds after a storm. It was beautiful. There really wasn't any other word to describe it. It was beautiful and fragile and precious in a way that took him completely off guard. He couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to.

Jase leaned forward, pressing his lips against Craig's, not desperate or hungry. Curious and gentle, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. What shock that may have lanced through him, the heat of the moment or the quicking of his own heartbeat was only intensified when his brain managed to catch up enough to register that he was being kissed back. Arms slid around his neck, and his lips parted. Craig's tongue gently exploring his own, as if it had discovered something new. As if he had. Had Jase's brain been properly functioning it would have probably confirmed that for him, but it wasn't. It had completely short circuited as another wave of heat washed over him.

Now, he was desperate, pulling Craig's mouth back to his as soon as they had both come up for air, dragging his teeth along his bottom lip, catching a bit of flesh and tugging. He slid his hand down Craig's side, up under his shirt, pressing the palm of his hand against the smooth, taught muscles there. Craig groaned over his lips, and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to drop his hand lower, hooking a pinky into the belt loop it found and tugging on that instead.

When they finally separated, Craig breathing as heavily as he was, it was due only to Jase's own ability to talk himself out of doing anything more. Knowing not to push. There was a very real chance that Craig had never entertained the notion of kissing another man, let alone anything that might come after. Jase was keenly aware that pushing to hard, or to fast, would break what ever magic that had gotten them that far. So he had pulled away, buried his forehead into the mans chest, and let himself just breath. Let Craig breath and think and maybe decide it wasn't for him after all. Somewhere in his chest the idea that it was never going to happen again hurt, but he wouldn't put any more pressure on him to do something he'd regret.

Craig's own forehead was pressed into his hair, the side with hair, as if trying to avoid touching the scarred side. Absentmindedly he thought it was funny that his hat had fallen off at some point. It was a long moment of quietly breathing, grinning into Craig's shirt, listening to his heartbeat, before he managed to speak. "Alright?"

A long pause. A raw answer, throaty and thick with desire and confusion, "Yeah."

"Sorry," he returned, trying his best not to let the creeping sadness of his thoughts overwhelm him.

"S'okay."

"Need a minute?"

"..Yeah." Despite how confused Craig's voice sounded, his arms were draped over Jase's shoulders, his fists still balled up in his shirt. Jase worried what he'd find once he got a good look at the mans face. The moments ticked by agonizingly slow, and Jase dared not move. Finally he felt the grip on his shirt loosen and the warmth of his body cool as it moved away. Boone sat back on his toes and ran his hand over the top of his head. The beret had come off at some point too.

"You good?" he asked carefully, dreading the answer.

"No."

And there it was. Jase felt himself deflate, watching as Craig ran his hand over his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Nope, can't do that. Gotta understand, smile. Let'm know it was alright. He was so busy trying to keep composure that he missed the little smile on Craig's face.

"You need to shave."

Jase's brain broke for a moment, the smile spreading across his face nearly splitting it in two. Once it had caught up to the physical reaction of Craig's joke, he laughed, "What, you don't like the beard?"

Craig shook his head, "No... Yes... it's different."

"Yep, it's different. I kinda like it though. But," He paused long enough to pull himself off the floor, "If it means I get to do that again, I'll shave." He scooped the beret up and placed it on top of Craig's head.

Craig was quiet for another few moments while Jase scooped down to pick his own hat up off the floor. "Yeah. But.." He paused in thought, "You don't have to shave."

Jase nodded, the heat growing in his chest again. It caused him to swallow hard, and he pushed down any thoughts that might ruin the moment or cause him to dive mouth first at the man again.

Instead he reached out and offered him a hand and a smirk, "Need a hand princess?"

Craig accepted, pulling himself up onto his feet, "You're the one who needed rescuing from rats."

Jase chuckled, "Fair enough. Now, lets go get this fuckin sex bot before I change my mind and make James pay us the entire Two Thousand we need."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This.. was not what I was originally intending on writing. But Jase does what Jase wants, so here we are.


	10. After

One little, two little, three little brahmin, four little five little six little brahmin. Seven little, eight little, nine little brahmin, ten little brahmin gathered in the field...

Nope, wasn't helping. Nothing he did could get the thoughts out of his head. The way Craig's lips had felt against his, his hands balled up tight in his shirt. The way he smelled like a mixture of sweat, dirt, gunpowder, and iron. Though he supposed the iron was probably blood. That didn't make it any less sexy and it didn't make him any less horny.

It had been real early when they'd gotten back to the Wrangler. James had been all kinds of excited to test out the sex bot, which meant that Jase had been right. He kind of wish he hadn't been. Seeing Jame's eyes light up only reminded himself of all the things he had wanted to do. Craig had been quiet for some time as they had hit the stairs, and the dread of what might come next sat heavy in his stomach. Would he change his mind? He wouldn't hold it against him if he did.

Craig was a good man, and Jase wasn't about to stop being the mans partner or wreck their friendship if it were the case. He had meant to ask once the room hand off was finished. Get into out into the air. No point in lettin your mind wreck a good thing with doubt. And he woulda too, except Veronica and Arcade had made such a big deal about his injured hand that they'd dragged him off to see Julie to get stitched up.

So, it was going on Noon by the time he collapsed on the couch in the little room. Craig was dead to the world, and Jase absolutely didn't dare crawl in bed next to him. Likely bound to give him a heart attack. Or himself one. So, couch it was. Of course, wanting to go to sleep and actually doing so were on opposite ends of the wasteland. He pulled his hat down over his face, stretched out best he was able, and tucked his arms behind his head.

It didn't take but a minute before the images threatened to swallow him up. The situation played over and over in his head. The way Craig's kisses had been cautious, curious at first. How they had moved from curious to hungry. The taste of his tongue. The feel of his lips..

He tried everything. Thinking of exploding heads in the distance, of cold nights out in the desert, how pretty Utah looked in the spring. He tried to think of his sisters laughter. Tried playing a few rounds of blackjack in his head. Nothing did it.

His mind wandered to the things he had wanted to do. How he had wanted to run his tongue along the mans taught muscles, taste his skin, hear the little sounds of pleasure...

One little, two little, three little kisses...

After an hour of hearing Craig's quiet breathing and trying desperately to not imagine what it would sound like against his skin, he got up. He needed to handle the situation, or else he'd never get any rest. He set his pack on the couch and quietly dug around until he found a fresh set of clothes. A gift from the King, white tee-shirt and jeans. They were headed into the strip tomorrow anyway, so it wouldn't hurt to give his leathers a chance to breath. Cleanish clothing in hand, he headed into the bathroom. Maybe he'd luck out and there would even be some soap.

* * *

"Do you think they really found a sex bot?"

Arcade stopped mid step to turn and look at Veronica. Had she actually just asked that? "You doubt our illustrious leader? I'm impressed. I've know the man a day and a half now and I've already seen him get the King and the NCR stand down. Did they really find a sex bot.."

Veronica laughed, "Well I mean, how do you even go about doing that? Just.. reprogram another bot I suppose, but still. Do you think they tested it?"

Arcade nearly choked. It took him a full moment to recover, "No I don't think they tested it. Nor do I want to."

"Liar, he's cute."

Arcade rose an eyebrow, "You think he's cute?"

"No, but you do," she winked at him and skipped a few paces ahead.

Arcade sighed and jogged lightly to catch up, "What's that got to do with anything?"

"It's got everything to do with it. When I first met Mik he was all sunshine and smiles. Just as carefree as a bird. Then he got sick and remembered his past and he's... I think he should smile like he did that first day, is all."

Arcade frowned slightly, "You mean the head injury caused memory loss?"

"Mmh. He had like, a memory relapse or something and went into shock, was out for almost a week. When he came back he was, well it's not like I knew him before but what ever he remembered weighed him down, yanno? Like... Like when you're little and you're happy, and then someone shows you the truth about the world. It broke him. He's more like Boone now."

Arcade nodded slowly, "Like Boone. Quiet, angry, likely to kill us all in our sleep?"

Veronica snickered, "No. Like in how what ever Boone's carrying is to heavy for any one person. Except he told Mik. Mostly, at least. So they were sharing it. Soldier stuff, I bet. And something about Boone's wife. Neither of them would tell me when I asked though."

"Boone is married?" Huh... hadn't expected that.

"Is, was. I dunno the details, but he doesn't talk about her. So maybe it's a was? He hates the Legion pretty hard, so if it's a was then it's probably awful. Course, that could be the solider stuff. Like I said, they didn't share. But I do know that Mik a week ago and Mik today are different people."

Arcade furrowed his brow in thought as they continued to walk. So Soldier boy trusts Mik. And from what Veronica said, Mik's change in personality came with regaining his memories. "So what you're saying is, you want me to use my boyish charms to make him smile?"

"Well someone should, right?"

Arcade smirked, "And you can't?"

It was Veronica's turn to stop in her tracks. She laughed, "No, he's very nice but unless he suddenly becomes a leggy brunette.."

Arcade couldn't help himself, "Well I don't think Mik would look very good in a frilly dress, though he does have the legs for it."

"Do you think? Oh my gosh, that's kind of the only thing I want to see now. I wonder how drunk he'd have to be to put one on? When we get into the strip the first place I'm going is the dress shop. I'll buy one in his size too. Then you have to get him drunk enough to put it on."

The Wrangler was coming into view as Veronica plotted, chittering about how maybe she could jury rig an old camera to take pictures and use it as blackmail later. He was only half listening. He did enjoy a good prank, but instead he found himself wondering about Boone and Mik's relationship. Married? Was. Sharing burdens to big to hold. It seemed like a lot. Mik was good looking, but was it really worth trying to insert himself between that? Maybe there wasn't anything at all, just friendship. Maybe he'd just ask.

As they stopped in front of the Wrangler, Arcade found himself wondering how he might go about that. He decided to start small. Mik had seemed rather insistent on getting into the strip, "So why is he so intent on going to the strip anyway? They only thing he told me was he had an appointment?"

"Oh! He's going to kill the guy who shot him."

Arcade blinked, "He's going to what?"

"Kill the guy who shot him," she repeated, pulling open the door.

"Well, that's certainly a conversation starter."

* * *

It was dusk when Boone woke up. Took him a few moments to remember where he was. Took him a few more to remember the previous night. Fuck. He jolted up and looked around the little hotel room. Jase was sprawled out over the couch, one leg propped up against the back, the other hanging over the edge. He was snoring into his hat. He squinted in the dark, trying to make out rest of the details of the man. Wasn't sure why he needed to, or even why he wanted to.

You kissed him.

Boone froze. He had kissed a man. He had kissed a man and hadn't hated it. He had kissed a man and hadn't hated it and he wanted to do it again. He had kissed a man, hadn't hated it, wanted to do it again, and every corner of his brain screamed at him for betraying his wife. Wave after wave of guilt crashed over him, each bringing up images of Carla. Carla laughing, Carla dancing in their little kitchen, telling him she was pregnant, saying her I Do's.

Had he betrayed her? After he had promised her he would never love another woman? Did he love Jase? Jase wasn't a woman. Did it still count? No that was stupid he had only known him for a couple of weeks. But he had only known Carla for a couple of weeks when they'd gotten married. He had loved her, and his bad luck had killed her. He had killed her.

He let his head drop into his hands. Would his bad luck kill Jase, too? Maybe Jase had bad luck of his own. Maybe they would cancel each other out. Maybe it would double up. Maybe a hole would open in the earth and swallow them. Maybe. Maybe he should put his own gun to his head now instead of continuing to be such a coward and drag people into his messes.

He hadn't hated it. Did that mean he was? He couldn't be gay, that would mean he had lied to Carla as well as killed her. Lied to Manny too? No. No that's not it. Jase got him. Even before Forlorn Hope. It felt like he could talk to him about Bitter Springs and he'd get it. Hadn't talked to Carla about it. Hadn't wanted to have her look at him differently. Jase wouldn't though, would he? He didn't think so.

So maybe it was that. Maybe Jase was the first person to get it. That looked at him the same even knowing how awful things were. How it's only a matter of time till it catches up. And he hadn't hated it. It was different, there was facial hair and Jase wasn't soft like a woman. Wasn't as skinny as he'd thought he was though. All muscle. Lean. Supposed that's how it was if you spent your life walking across the wastes delivering packages.

Wanted to.... he wasn't sure what he wanted to do. He didn't want to feel guilty too. He loved Carla but he could still love her. And Jase wasn't a woman. So it wasn't a lie. She was gone and there was nothing he could do. Jase was here and would get it.

He didn't know how long he sat there, head in his hands, memories and ghosts haunting his mind.

"Craig.."

* * *

He was crying. When he woke up, it was to the sound of near silent sobs. He'd called out but there hadn't been an answer and he swore under his breath. Craig was crying and it was probably his fault. Why had he done it? Stupid. Stupid stupid. Of course he'd be upset. Jase figured he'd get his ass kicked, but this was so much worse. As his eyes adjusted to the dark he could make out the shaking form in the bed. So much worse.

Stupid fuckin, the man was broken and he couldn't keep it in his god damned pants. As if he didn't know what it was like. Stupid fucking piece of shit. He got up off the couch and sat beside Craig.

"Hey, hey. It's alright man. You're good. You're safe." Jase wrapped an arm around Craig's shoulders, half holding his breath in case that fist did come. It didn't. Instead Craig lifted his head to look at him, and Jase felt his insides tear. Craig's eyes were red and the tears rolled freely down his face. The expression he wore was full of confusion.

"Jase?"

"Yeah. You're good man."

Craig looked down at his hands, "Didn't even know I was crying.."

Jase sighed quietly and gave the shoulders a squeeze, "Ain't no one here gonna judge. You alright?"

A long pause, "No."

Jase nodded, made a noise of acknowledgement. "Wanna talk about it?" He paused a moment, "Wanna punch me?"

Craig chuckled.

"Progress? Or should I be worried about my face?"

"Shut up."

Jase smiled, "Alright. I can do that."

Craig was quiet for a while after that. Jase didn't dare move. He kept his grip on the mans shoulder and gave a squeeze every now and again to reassure him that everything was alright. His thoughts flipped through all the different reasons why he was crying. Could it have been a bad memory of war? Something to do with Carla? What they'd done? As he flipped through each reason and cursed himself for the last one, Craig spoke again.

"Am I gay?"

Jase was taken aback by the question, had to stop himself from laughing, "No, don't rightly think you are. Why?"

"...Cause I keep.. thinking about it. I didn't hate it. Don't want to hit you either. You smell nice."

Now he laughed, "I took a shower. And I'm glad you don't wanna hit me. And, I'm sorry if I pissed you off. Wasn't meant to."

Craig shook his head, "You didn't."

"Just confused?"

"Yeah." Another long silence. Jase let him collect his thoughts.

"Keep thinking about how I cheated on Carla. But.." he paused, as if trying to figure out what he wanted to say, "She's dead. You're not a woman. Do I like guys?"

"Don't know. Do you?"

Boone shook his head, "Never really thought about it."

"Yep. Me neither." Jase let his arm fall, and he adjusted himself so that he was sitting across from him, one leg bend up beneath. "When I met Drew I didn't have the faintest idea what to do with it, neither."

"Drew?" Craig rose an eyebrow.

Jase nodded, "My husband. Met him on one of my first courier jobs. Needed an escort out of a vault to the boneyard. His family lived there but had been half out for a generation and had been getting aid from the followers for years. Was gonna be bringin all that medical knowledge from the past in the form of one young doctor and a cart full of books."

"What happened?"

"I took him to the boneyard. He asked me to stay, I told him I had to go home first. Came back to pick him up a month later. Halfway back he kissed me. Got married on my ma's farm bout a month after that."

Craig was silent for a moment, "I married Carla about a month after I met her."

Jase smiled, "See, something else we got in common."

Craig managed a half smile, "Where is he?"

Jase sighed, he didn't want to tell that story, but he knew it was important it be heard. He took a deep breath, "My Pa was a piece of shit. When I got big enough I kicked his ass and sent him packin. I should'a killed him then, but I was still a boy and couldn't. He fell in with one of them families in New Reno, small one tryin to break into the big time. Came back about 10 years later... bout 3 years into my courier work. I was on a job." He swallowed hard, taking a moment to will the bile away before speaking again, "He'd raped and beat my ma to death, gave Drew to his crew to do the same. Sister was hid in the closet, saw the whole thing."

"Jesus, Jase, you don't..."

"I do. I have to tell you cause I get it. I do. I get why you hate the Legion so much and why you needed to put a bullet in the brain of the one who sold her. How it don't help the hate. How it was your fault it happened, you coulda stopped it long before if you'd just chose different. I get it." Jase balled his fists into the blanket as he spoke, trying to will the coil of self hatred away. This wasn't about him. "I get it."

"But it wasn't your fault, man. You didn't know. How could you know some jealous bitch was gonna do that shit? I knew he was commin back eventually. Its half the reason I was away, takin every job I could get. Just needed the money, get'm all away from there. Weren't fast enough. You just wanted to give your pretty wife a place to raise your kid, make a home, yanno? Ain't no fault in that."

Craig sighed and shook his head, "No. I knew. I knew it was going to come back. Just didn't think it was gonna take her."

Jase placed his hand on Craig's shoulder, "What was?"

"Bitter Springs."

"Bitter Springs?" He'd heard talk, but talk was about as good as NRC dollars on the frontier.

"Mmh. Went sideways. Bad shit. Was always coming back around to get me. Should've known better."

Jase sighed, "Don't think it works like that, Craig. I know you ain't know much about god, and I ain't tryin to preach but he don't punish you by hurtin' other folk. Don't even believe it about what my Pa did. That was about what he wanted, stuborn fuck thinkin people were property. They ain't, they make choices and stumble but it ain't about hurtin others to punish you for makin'm. People hurt other people. You didn't hurt Jeannie May. She made that choice all on her own."

"You believe that?"

"I do. Sometimes best thing you can do to is stack the deck. Can't erase the choices you made, can only do what you can to make the places you leave better then when you got there. Sometimes choices ain't our own, neither. My Pa was always gonna kill'm. The only thing I failed at was stoppin him right the first time." Something inside settled, as if saying it out loud made it real in a way he hadn't thought could be, before.

He took another breath, "And, if I had, maybe my Ma'd still be alive, my sister might of grown up and gotten married.. but then I wouldn't have met Drew. Wouldn't have taken up courier work. Wouldn't've walked into the Mojave lookin to get eaten by deathclaws and ended up with a bullet in my brain. Wouldn't've walked into Novac. Was a lot of things I coulda done, after my sister died. Coulda gone to Utah, real pretty up there s'long as you avoid Salt Lake. Point is, we don't know. You don't. Maybe god is out to get you for followin bad orders. Likely he ain't. Best you can do is keep livin, helpin those who need it. Even if you can't take it away, don't mean the good you can do ain't important."

Craig grunted, as if he didn't quite believe what was being said but couldn't really disagree either, "Sounds like you're trying to convince yourself."

"Cause I am, little bit," He felt himself smile, " Besides, the best thing you coulda done for Novac was puttin that bullet into Jeannie May's head. Who the fuck takes an unintentional slight and decides to deal with it by sellin a person off to slavers? That is exactly the wrong direction you take that. Ain't Carla's fault she didn't fit in. Every person I talked to said the same, she was sweet but uncomfortable and tryin. If that crazy bitch had just let it go, it's real likely ya'll woulda moved away eventually. Or she woulda settled. Shits nuts. She was nuts. And as for Carla..."

Craig sucked air through his teeth, but didn't make any moves to stop the conversation.

"You did what you could. If you coulda stormed that place and taken her home, you woulda. But you couldn't right?"

He nodded, "Only had one bullet."

"So you did what you could. And it was a kindness. Don't never believe otherwise. I told you before and I stick by it. We'll rain vengeance down on'm for daring."

Craig smiled at that, and it swept away the last remainders of darkness dancing through Jase's mind. It felt good to have someone to talk with, even if he hadn't told everything. He hoped it was the same for Craig, but he wasn't going to kid himself into thinking one conversation was gonna fix everything. It was gonna take time, and it meant that Jase needed to make time rather then just trying to get himself killed. Wouldn't do to be dead when there was a smile like that buried under all that sadness.

"So you aren't gay?"

Jase grinned, "No. It ain't the same. Arcade is, I spec, but I like ladies just about as much as you do. They're soft, always smell nice, tits are just fuckin the best thing in the goddamned world."

Craig chuckled, despite furrowing his brow, "But you like guys?"

He nodded, "I like people. Just in general I spec. Didn't think I did back before Drew but It ain't about what bits folk have. It's.. I like who I like. Not interested in those I don't. Gotta know'm. S'like that in all sorts of ways too. If a person is worth likin then they're family. Like Veronica right? She's a good kid, earnest and funny and trustworthy. Stuck around when she didn't have to. Don't wanna kiss her, mind, but if she needed me to burn down a village full of slavers she ain't even gotta ask twice. So long as she don't break faith with me, I'll have her back."

Craig nodded slowly, "Yeah, I get it. You like who you like, and don't who you don't."

Jase patted his shoulder, "Exactly. Whole lotta nothin else in between. I like you. It ain't gotta be more then that, if you don't want. I'll get your back either way. Want me to fuck off entirely, I can do that too."

"No."

"No?" Jase shifted slightly in the bed, placing both hands on his leg.

Craig shook his head, "You don't have to fuck off."

He grinned, "Good to hear. Again, I think, cause you said it last night too, round about. As for the rest, well, think about it. Let me know what you decide."

Craig nodded again, taking a few moments before he responded, "Yeah. I will."

Jase beamed at him, winked, and slapped his knee, "Great. Now, go take a shower, its fuckin amazing. I'll meet you downstairs when your ready. I'm itchin to play some Blackjack in a real casino." He stood, stretching out his leg and muttering under his breath about pins and needles. Scooped up his hat, "Maybe I'll get me one of them cowboy dusters to go with my leathers."

From the bed, Craig chuckled, "It'd suit you."

Jase tipped his hat towards the bed before he let himself out, "Yeah I think it might."


	11. If That Ain't a Kick in the Head

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, the elevator springing to life with a jolt. Of course. Of course he couldn't just deliver a package. Couldn't just shoot a man for failing to kill him. Couldn't just do what he'd set out to do and then go on a quest to help his friend feel better. Couldn't himself have used the same quest to help heal his own barely held together wounds. No. Of course not. It had to get complicated. Now there was a talking computer man who wanted him to do more. Not that it had said what it wanted beyond the platinum chip returned. No. Mr. House had been very tight lipped about what, exactly, it had wanted past that. It had insinuated more though, much much more.

Jase pressed his forehead against the cool wall next to him. What was he supposed to say to the others? How much would he even be allowed to say? It wasn't as if House could have surveillance on all of the Mojave, could he?

* * *

When they had entered the Strip Veronica had gasped. She'd seen the lights from Hidden Valley and the outlaying areas enough times, but nothing quite did it justice like seeing it close up for the first time. It was early in the evening and the excitement of it all welled up inside of her until she was practically bouncing out of her own skin. It was so bright and so... there really weren't any words to describe it. Almost as if the old world had reached out and handed her a personalized trip to the past. She wanted to go into every building, touch every slot machine. Sit at every card table, a drink in her hand, maybe in a fancy dress.

She could picture it in her mind. She would sit next to Christine, who was obviously dressed in the most amazing pants suit and cheer her on as they made bets and drank and laughed and enjoyed the music. Dressed to the nines.

Of course none of that was going to happen. She hadn't seen Christine in so long now. A pang in her chest reminded her well enough. That didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the sights and sounds, right? Right.

The mood of everyone came crashing down when they'd run into the securitron, Victor, walking past the Lucky 38 though. Mik had gone inside, summoned by Mr. House. She glanced at the glittering sign of the Gamorah, watched the half-naked women and men trying to entice the solders on leave, and did her best to try and ignore Boone and the way he paced nervously. She made idle chatter with Arcade, chittered at Ed-E, and pet Rex, who was over the moon, sniffing every curb and wagging his tail at every passerby. She was glad he was having fun.

If her thoughts kept swinging back around to Christine and her family? Well, maybe she should talk to Mik. Tell him the truth. She felt he deserved that much.

* * *

Boone paced back and forth. It had been more then a little while since Jase had gone inside the Lucky 38. It made him twitch. The securitron that Jase had called Victor was sitting in front of them, deactivated. There were others that were not deactivated though, which kept him hesitant. Doubted he could survive if he charged head first into the building. His trigger finger itched, and the minutes continued to stretch with no sign of Jase. So he paced. Moving helped, if only to kill the nervousness he was feeling. Veronica and Arcade didn't seem nearly as worried, chatting away quite happily as Veronica pointed in one direction or another.

He sighed. Would have been happy enough to watch Veronica be so cheerful in her sight seeing. He didn't dislike her. On the contrary he'd come to see her as a little sister figure of sorts. Jase had been right, she was a good kid. And an actual Kid too. Couldn't be more then 20. He'd have loved nothing more then to sit back, watching her gush and keeping an eye out for creepers. But Jase had gone into the building alone. He hadn't been anywhere alone since they'd started traveling together. Boone understood that Jase was more then capable of handling himself, but that didn't ease the tension. It didn't make him any less worried.

He continued to pace. His mind wandered over the earlier conversation. It hadn't cleared anything up. Not really. Still wasn't sure how he felt. How he should feel. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He knew he respected Jase. He knew he was glad to know his instincts had been right. Jase did get it. Maybe not all of it, but enough not to look at him like some kind of monster. He knew he didn't want to lose another friend. Did that mean he would have to? He didn't think so, but there was a new voice that kept reminding him of the... the incident. Kept telling it to stop trying to butt into all his thoughts, but it didn't want to listen. And if he did listen to it and Jase eventually learned what really happened at Bitter Springs? What would that cost him?

He glanced at the door. The deactivated securitron. The other securitrons guarding the door. What was taking so long?

A half fell on his shoulder, and he instinctively shrugged it off.

"Relax, Boone. I highly doubt this is some sort of assassination attempt."

Boone looked towards the voice and scowled, "Could be. You don't know that."

Arcade smiled down at him, "You're right, I don't. What I do know, is that Mr. House doesn't do visitors. Not even the three families have gone inside the Lucky 38. Occam's Razor."

What? "What?"

Veronica walked up and put her hand on his shoulder as well. Boone glanced at the hand in annoyance but didn't brush it away. On his other side, Arcade's voice responded, "It's an old phrase. It means the simple answer is usually the right answer, or there about. We know Mr. House doesn't do visitors. We know that Mik was hired by Mr. House to deliver a package. It's highly probable that what they're doing is discussing what happened and how to solve it."

He shook his head, "Simplest solution is to kill him for failure and hire someone else."

Veronica looked thoughtful, "Hmm, true, but that's messy and tedious. Why pay someone else when you can get the person who's responsibility it was to just solve the issue at hand? It's not as if Mik proved himself untrustworthy, right? He was ambushed. If Mik had handed the package off to the thieves or conspired with them, that would be a different story. Yet, I'm sure you would agree that isn't who our illustrious cowboy is. I'd wager Mr. House is keen enough to know that too. After all, he managed to get the NRC to stand down with zero bloodshed."

Boone furrowed his brow. He hadn't thought about that. The NCR had signed a treaty with House, and because of it the strip was thriving. He'd seen it himself. Or at least, he'd seen the aftermath of it all. When the NCR had come to the Mojave they had been handed the Dam and Camp McCarran by House and the Three Families. There was more, but Boone didn't really care about the details. He sighed and grunted an acknowledgement. If both of them seemed to think that this Mr. House wasn't going to kill Jase, then perhaps they were right. Oscars Razor or what ever.

The screen on the deactivated Securitron jumped to life as he was resigning himself to calm down, "Well Howdee Pardners! Mister Mikaelson's bout to mosey on out to see you fine folk! Thank you kindly for waiting real patient like! Mr. House and I appreciate it!"

"Victor, can I ask you a question?" Veronica smiled at the Securitron as she asked. Boone already hadn't liked the thing, but listening to it talk set every hair on the back of his neck standing. It's voice was like a mockery of Jase's accent. Forced and disingenuous.

"Why Of Course! What can I do for you little lady?"

"How do you know Mik? I mean, other then through Mr. House. He seemed surprised to see you here."

"Well now I'm the one that done dug him up in Goodspring! Didn't Mister Mikaelson tell you good folk?" The picture shifted on the screen, the cowboy face expressing shock rather then the cheerful smile.

"He did," Boone responded before Veronica could protest.

The face shifted again, back to the smoking cowboy, "Well great! And here he is! Good luck Mister Mikaelson! We'll be seein you folks later I'm sure!"

Jase emerged from the building, and Boone had to stamp down an urge to run over to him. Didn't want to dig into why he'd wanted to. Not yet. Jase shot him a warm smile before turning to tip his hat to the Securitron Cowboy. It went a mile in helping his mood.

"Thank you kindly, Victor. Please tell Mr. House we'll be back soon."

"Will do!" it drawled thickly, rolling its way back towards the doors. As it turned around, the screen flickered. The image quickly being replaced by the standard gruff securitron face.

"Not here." Jase turned toward them. His eyes spoke volumes, even if there was a smile plastered on his face. Right. Something serious had happened between him and Mr. House. Something else to worry about. On top of that, there was a commotion going on behind them, which sent the hairs on the back of Boone's neck up. He crossed his arms, taking a step in front of Jase. and turned. There was a small crowd forming around them. The normal bustling street had all but froze, every patron and street caller staring and whispering. Not good. He glanced to his left. then right, and noticed that both Arcade and Veronica had seen as well.

Not good.

* * *

With the weight of his conversation still on his mind, the sight of Craig and the others was comforting. He couldn't help but give him a warm smile before addressing Victor. Fucking Victor who'd pulled his ass out of a grave and saved his life worked for that goddamed man computer thing. He wasn't quite sure if he aught to be grateful or put a bullet in it. Not that he could now. He tipped his hat to it instead and put on the best 'Everything is Wonderful' smile he could muster. Then, he shot his companions a look, "Not here." Because here was far more dangerous to them then any cazador or geko or legion scouting party they might come across. And he had a lot to discuss with them.

First though, he needed to get his hands on that goddamned platinum chip. Which meant getting his hands on Benny. The only sunny side of an otherwise fucked up situation. It meant he was armed with more information. A name, and a real plan beyond casing the joint. It also meant he'd be going in unarmed. Well, not entirely. Words were a great weapon when they needed to be.

Half lost in thought, he only barely realized that his companions were flanking him. Craig was standing in front of him. He tilted his head slightly to see past the beret. A crowd was forming, the strip and it's patrons frozen in gapes and whispering to each other. Trouble?

"Excuse me. Are you Mr. Mikaelson?"

Jase furrowed his brow slightly at the voice. A young man dressed in NRC attire had walked up, parting the sea of gawkers. He looked nervous, and was carrying a letter between his hands.

"I suppose I am. Can I help you, son?" Jase kept that false smile on his face, giving Boone a gentle pat on the shoulder to reassure him as he stepped out from behind him.

"Yes, I was asked to deliver this to you. It's a summons from Ambassador Crocker," the young man spoke up as he handed the letter over.

Jase took the letter with a nod, slipping it into his pocket. He'd read it later. Seems Mr. House wasn't the only one wanting him to do more. "Well, isn't that right nice of him. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Di-excuse me for prying, but did you just come out of the Lucky 38?"

Yep, trouble. "I did. Why do you ask?"

"Well, no one's ever been in there before. It's kind of amazing. Did you get to see Mr. House?"

That explained the crowd. He took the moment to give his smile a dangerous lean, straightening his shoulders. If there was going to be trouble due to the impromptu summons, he aught to look as imposing as possible, "That I did, son. Right nice fella that Mr. House. Gave me the presidential suite and everythin."

The young man looked impressed, "Whoa. That's amazing. No wonder the Ambassador wants to talk to you. Good luck sir, and thank you. We heard of the help you and your team gave up at Forlorn Hope. We appreciate it."

He smiled and tipped his hat to the young man, "Have a good evenin, and keep up the good work son."

"Thank you sir, good luck!" and off the soldier went, melting back into the crowd. Jase waited a few more moments, surveying the surroundings as the folk gathered started to disperse. Once enough people had gone back to their own buisness, Jase swung around and gave a severe look to his friends. All three had varying shades of worry on their faces.

Veronica hissed, "The Presidential Suite?"

Arcade was frowning, and Boone's eyes kept darting around searching for threats. Jase nodded, "Not here. Lets go back to the Wrangler."

Silently, and flanked by three people, a robodog, and an eyebot, they headed for the gate back into Freeside. If dread was pooling in his veins, it was only crystallized as they reached the gate.

A man in a suit and fancy hat bumped into him and breathed, "Ave to Caesar, you have been summoned."

Jase paused as the man passed, dumbstruck.

The man hiccuped and grinned sheepishly as he walked away, "Shorry!"

"You alright?" Craig asked quietly. Jase shook his head, but said nothing as they continued out of the gate. The man had slid a coin into his pocket.

* * *

Arcade held his head in both of his hands. What had he gotten involved in? NCR summons, Mr. House? He took a deep breath and sat back against the couch. "Not to interrupt, but it sounds like you could just, walk away from everything after handing over the chip?"

"Didn't sound to me like it stops at the Chip. Kept talkin about carer opportunities once the chip is recovered. Don't think 'walk away' is an option on the table." Mik's normal jovial attitude was nowhere to be found, and that greatly concerned Arcade. What ever the big players were doing, they were now banking on one Jase Mikaelson. Which meant Arcade had a choice to make. Maybe all of them. Great.

"So basically what you're saying is that Mr. House is a computer? Or IN a computer, maybe. And he has plans? Plans that he's counting you to complete for him?" Veronica frowned as she spoke, wringing her wrists.

"I don't like it," Boone spoke up, seated on his right side.

"I don't either, Craig. More so now then before even, with NCR summoning me. Plus.." Mik stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a coin, "Pretty sure the Legion summoned me as well."

"Jesus."

"Holy - wait your name is Craig?"

"Shut up."

Arcade ran his hands through his hair. NCR. Legion. House. What the ever loving fuck was happening? "All three of the major powers in the area have summoned you, personally, for meetings. A courier."

Jase sighed, "A courier. I mean. I'm not gonna go see the Legion, fuck that. But.. why now?"

Arcade frowned, "Isn't it obvious?"

"No? I ain't some kinda war hero or big player. What, they all got packages they want delivered? Like I'm some kinda poster boy for the Mojave Express now? Want your package delivered? Even death ain't gonna stop our couriers! Try Mojave Express today!" Mik flailed his arms and gave an exasperated sigh.

Arcade chuckled. At least Mik still had a good sense of humor about the whole thing. He shook his head as he spoke, "No, though it's not a bad catch phrase honestly. Maybe workshop it. No, it's likely because you went into the 38. The NCR kid wasn't wrong. No one goes in there. Not even the Three Families have been inside."

Mik sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing, "This shits to big for me. Why the fuck did I take the goddamned job?"

"Let's just figure out how to deal with Benny first. Once that's done, you'll have more information on what House wants. Can't make a plan without information, after all." Arcade patted Mik on the knee and smiled, "It'll be alright. You've got plenty of backup between the three of us if you decide to tell him to fuck off."

Both Veronica and Boone were nodding in agreement. Good. They were all in agreement, at least in that. If Mik wanted to finish the job and get the hell out of dodge, he would be alright with that. Arcade was better then most at disappearing should the need arise. Afterall, he'd been doing it all his life.


	12. Pie

"Right, so here's what we're gonna do"

* * *

Veronica twirled in place, the layers of silky material billowing out as she twirled. She giggled, as vapidly as possible, "Isn't it just the tops, mister? Like the place!"

The chairman bodyguards didn't move, but all of them were keeping their eyes on her. Her distraction was working, the one closest giving her a little nod and a light smile that said that he was enjoying her little show. She let her eyes wander from beneath the extra big sunglasses they'd found, catching the telltale blond of Arcade's head as he slipped past. Good, he'd managed to get on the elevator. She turned on the charm, pulling the sunglasses away from her face and biting down on one of the arms.

She leaned in closer to the one clearly enjoying the show, she bat her eyelashes and whispered through lightly clenched teeth, "Did you know my daddy gave me enough caps to buy this place if I wanted? Said his princess could have anything she wanted. Do you think that's true?"

The bodyguard shifted, clearing his throat, "Pretty dame like you? Your pops is right."

She let herself mock gasp, and gently swatted his arm. After a moment she gave him a grin like a cat she'd read about in a fairy story as a child, leaving her hand on his arm. "What if I wanted a big, strong bodyguard to escort me to a table? Be my good luck charm?"

The man looked down at her and gave her a wide grin, "One moment doll." He turned towards the other three.

Veronica turned away and slid her sunglasses back on. Taking another glace around as she fanned herself with her hand, she caught sight of cowboy hat at the blackjack table. Behind him stood a suited and fedora'd Boone. She had been amazed when they'd managed to convince him to take off the beret, but it was required. Like flirting with the bodyguards. Shame the Tops didn't employ female bodyguards. All she had to do was pick a different table, pretend like she didn't know how to play, count some cards, and make a big fuss about winning.

The bodyguard was back, arm extended, "Alright doll, you pick the table."

She scooped his arm up and patted it gently, leading him towards the table farthest from where Benny was standing.

* * *

Arcade slipped into the room as two bodyguards disappeared around the corner. The key Swank gave them cleanly unlocking the door. He glanced around as he closed the door behind him carefully, carefully. Let himself breath once he heard the click. Right, search for evidence. The room was nice. Bigger then he figured a normal room would be but still smaller then he had been expecting from the description of Benny.

Quietly he moved about, checking for the obvious and not so obvious hiding places one might keep a poker chip or important documents. Under the bar, between couch cushions, any hidden safes behind pictures? None. Nothing under the couches. He did his best, being careful to be quiet and to replace anything disturbed. When he'd exhausted the search in the main room, he moved on through into the bedroom. Halfway into checking between the boxspring and mattress of the full size bed, another thing he hadn't expected, he noticed the big fucking hole in the wall.

Really?

He sighed and pulled himself up off the floor. Of all the ridiculous, all that effort wasted when there was...a... In front of him was a securitron with a smiling face.

"Hello!"

Arcade froze in place.

"Are you here talk to me? It's so nice that Mr. Benny would send me company!"

Arcade continued to stand very still.

"What's your name?"

"Ah.. "

"Hello Mr. Ah! What can I do for you today?" The securitron rolled over, it's cheerful face sending a cold shiver down his spine.

"I, uh.. yes. Yes Mr. Benny sent me to check on you," Arcade managed to make his mouth and brain work at the same time. Benny had a securitron. Benny had a securitron and it wasn't threatening him. Okay, okay quick, think of something Arcade. Think!

"Oh isn't that just so nice! I haven't met anyone before, other then Mr. Benny and his nice lady friend who fixed me! Did he send you with an update on the plan?"

Plan? There was a plan. Benny had a plan and it involved a securitron. Maybe it had to do with the chip and why House wanted it so badly? "I.. Yes. Yes there is an update. He asked me to let you know that he's working with a man named Mr. Mik."

"Oh good! I like new friends! Will I me getting to meet him too, Mr. Ah?"

Arcade ran his hand through his hair and nodded, "Yes. Very soon, I expect. Now that I've updated you, I will... go let Mr. Benny and Mr. Mik know you are safe."

"Okay! Be safe, Mr. Ah! I do hope to see you again soon!"

* * *

Boone hated that he didn't have his rifle. Or his hat. Or that he had to wear the stupid monkey suit. But, he didn't hate playing bodyguard. He kept one eye on Veronica across the room, and a second out for sign of a returning Arcade. Or any movement from Benny and his goons up on the balcony. Swank had assured them that he would keep Benny distracted. Jase was playing blackjack, sat at the table not far from him. The goal wasn't for him to win or lose, but to keep an even pace with the others at the table. No need to draw attention to themselves. It was Veronica who was supposed to be winning.

From the sound of the excited squeals and boisterous laughter, it sounded as if it was working. Boone let himself take a few steps back, leaning against the wall. There were others on the casino floor with security as well, though no one but the bodyguards that were spread throughout were armed. The place was popular. Veronica's table more so then the others.

"Ah, shucks. Looks like I aught to try my luck elsewhere, I fold."

Boone's attention snapped back toward Jase, who was tipping his hat to the dealer. That was the sign. He glanced around and caught sign of a distressed looking Arcade. Pushed himself off the wall and gave the standing Jase a nod.

"Mr. Areo, shall we mosey on over and see what all the commotion is at that other table?" Jase said, flashing him a smile. Boone only nodded in response. Time to find out what Arcade knew and start phase two, Get Benny Alone.

* * *

"And the hand goes to the pretty lady in pink!"

The rather large crowd hissed and cheered as Veronica swept up her winnings. She looked absolutely brilliant all gussied up, hair done and pretty like a lady aught to be. Jase smiled warmly as he tucked himself into an open spot just vacated by a grumbling man in a shabby grey suit.

"Might there be room for me? Try my hand against the pretty young thing here?" Jase asked as he set his stack of chips down at the table. Several folks cheered, one shouting that her luck was bound to run out.

Veronica flashed him a smile from behind the shades she was wearing and pat the bodyguard standing next to her on the hand, "I told you that you were good luck, Charlie. I'm all in!"

Jase caught view of Boone and Arcade out of the corner of his eye and nodded as both of them smiled. Good. They'd found something. With that, Jase tipped his hat, and began the round.

* * *

"How. DARE. You. Accuse. ME. Of Cheating! Tell him Charlie, you've been here the whole time!" Veronica added an extra layer of indignation into her voice.

"Hey now, what's the problem here kids?" Benny had appeared at the side of the table, a look of concern on his face.

"This man has accused me of cheating! How do you even cheat at this game? How would I? Of all the!" Veronica was huffing now, pointing at some sad son of a bitch who had sat at the table.

"I.. no, I didn't do anything of the sort. It was the man wi.. where did he go?!" the poor man looked around, trying to find the actual accuser, but Jase had slipped away into the crowd.

"How DARE You. When my daddy hears about this!" Veronica threw her hands into the air, slapping the bodyguard, Charlie, in the process. It hadn't been intentional but it was still funny. She continued, "Do you know who I am?! My daddy supplies half of Vegas! When he tells Mr. House how I've been TREATED!"

"Woah there Dollface, it's alright. Boys please handle this rat fink will you? Miss, why don't you come with me, eh? We'll get you set up in the presidential sweet right away. No need to be calling your pops." Benny looked mildly panicked, despite the cool words, and offered her a hand.

"Wait!" The man was protesting, throwing his arms in front of him as five or six men surrounded him.

"You're gonna have to come with us sir."

"I didn't! Wai.." the voice trailed off as Veronica was swept away from the scene. Benny had slid his arm around her midsection, and she did her best not to let it show just how much it made her skin crawl at the idea of him touching her. She peered over her shoulder and gave a nod to Jase, who had slipped away after making the accusation. The commotion was nuts, and she was impressed at how much chaos she had managed to cause.

Benny was murmuring softly at her as the elevator opened, but she wasn't listening. Instead she put her head in both her hands and began to pretend to cry, mumbling, "I can't believe someone would treat me like that."

"There there doll. We'll get you settled and make sure that fink don't come around here again. Charlie'll make sure of .. What in the god damned?"

* * *

Jase, Craig, and Arcade walked into the elevator behind Benny. With half the staff wrestling with the poor guy at the door, it was easy enough. Especially with how distracted Benny was with staring at Veronica's chest. Oh yea, he was going to put this fucker into the grave. The doors closed behind them and Benny had turned around to press the button when he realized that they weren't alone.

"What in the god damned... It's you! How the fuck are you alive!"

Jase chuckled, "You're a shit shot. Thank you kindly for the distraction darlin."

"No problem Mik." Veronica was smiling big.

Benny took one look at her and blanched, "Shit. Never trust a broad, first rule. Fuck me."

"So, Benny. Where the fuck is my poker chip?" Jase kept his smile as he spoke. Beside him, Arcade slapped the elevator button and the whole thing lurched as it kicked on.

"Easy now, chief. Why don't we go on up and have that drink I was offering your bird here. Have a chat. There's more going on then you think."

Craig cracked his knuckles, and Jase let that smile of his stretch across his teeth. He stood a head taller then the checkered suited fuck, and it felt good to menace over him. No one else spoke. When the elevator came to a hault, Jase took a step to the side and gestured for Benny to walk out first. He did, Veronica and Arcade flanking either side.

"Hell of a thing you did to get me alone," Benny said, reaching for a bottle on the bar and pulling the cork out of it, "How much did you manage to wrack up anyway doll, couple thousand caps worth at least right?" He put the bottle directly to his lips and took a long swig, "All to get me alone. I should be flattered. I gotta know, how is it that you're still living?"

Jase sat down next to him,took the bottle from his hand and poured it into a glass, "Takes more then a few bullets to put me in the ground."

Benny laughed nervously, "Yeah, hello... Well, serves me right for using a nine mil."

Jase picked the glass up and took a drink. It was good whiskey, and he was enjoying watching Benny squirm. Veronica and Arcade were flanking the elevator doors and Craig was standing at the end of the bar, arms folded over his chest.

"And once you got vertical, how'd you track me down?"

"I'm persistent. Can't rightly let someone try to kill me and let'm live."

"You've got a crazy drop on me here, baby, that's for sure. If killing's what you came for, this would be the time. But baby, you'd be disappointing me. All the trouble you went through to arrange this shin-dig? Must be something more you're after...?"

Jase shifted on the stool, stretching one long leg out as he leaned back against the bar, "Nope. Well.. You are gonna die, Benny. Make no mistake. But, humor me. You probably don't want to die. After all, you got plans yeah? All these different folk suddenly wanna be my best friend and all I did was walk into the Lucky 38 to let a client know his package had gone missing. So, them plans must be real, real big. Steal a securitron and reprogram it big, yeah?"

Benny winced, "You really weren't supposed to talk to him..."

Jase laughed, "I didn't. But the good doctor over by the door did."

"How'd you get into my room?"

Jase shook his head, he wasn't about to spill all his secrets nor rat out Swank for the assistance. Instead he just gave Benny a long look, smiled and said, "Magic"

Benny nodded, getting the jist quick enough, "Alright, I dig. Magicians don't tell their secrets."

"The securitron?"

Benny hesitated in answering. Not for long though, as the long stretch of quiet was all Craig needed to pick up a pool stick and slap it against his palm a couple of times.

"All right, alright, so he used to be one of those on patrol. Square as the rest, until I gave him a mickey in the shape of pulse grenade. Once he was on the nod, I yanked some wires and dragged him up to the workshop."

Jase rose an eyebrow, "You did that all on your lonesome? Color me impressed, Benny."

Benny shook his head, then answered, "I had... some help, you see. Gal named Emily, one of the Followers over in Freeside, a real whiz when it comes to things technical. She programmed his personality."

Over by the door, Arcade chuckled, "That explains a lot, actually."

Jase grinned, "Our good doctor is a Follower. Nice folk, them. Always so helpful."

Benny laughed at that, "Yep they are. Anyway once Yes Man was hooked back in to House's data network, I started learning a lot more about what he was up to, dig? Like where and when to find you."

Jase nodded slowly. So Benny was intelligent enough to figure out how to bypass House's security system. He'd have to make a stop in to see Emily once they were finished. "So why did you do all this?"

"You been under a rock? Shit's real bad around here. Only reason NRC hasn't busted up our scene is they're a little afraid of Mr. House, and a lot afraid of Caesar. The NCR beats the Legion at Hoover Dam, they'll turn on us and claim the Strip. And we don't have the muscle to beat them - not yet."

Jase shook his head, "Let me guess, House wasn't doin enough to convince you that he could keep ya'll safe?"

Benny took another drink from his bottle and smiled, "You got the right of it, baby. I've gleaned a lot, working with Mr. House. He was a good cat to swing with. I still got more to learn, but it's... it's coming together. The odds may look long, but that's just because we ain't done rigging them. I won't toss the dice until we are."

Jase took a long look at the man who had shot him. All in all, he wasn't an idiot. At least not completely. The idea that House had been planning on continuing to strong arm the NRC wasn't a horrible one, either. Though the ways it could go wrong were to terrifying to think of. Better still was that Benny looked so damned sure that if he just got rid of House he could handle it himself. Yet, he couldn't even manage to actually kill the man carrying the key to all of it.

"What's with the Chip?"

"It's some kind of data storage device, dig? So it's the data on the Chip that's platinum, not the Chip itself. It has something to do with the Securitrons, I know that much. Upgrades their hitting power, gives'em heft. Might be slightly useful, if you're looking to defend the Strip from Caesar's Legion or the NCR," Benny paused for dramatic effect, "Or both, dig?"

Ah, so that was the plan. Upgrade the whole lot of securitrons and let them do the heavy lifting. Not terrible, but again, not great either. Especially since it meant pissing off a country full of soldiers. If the Legion took all this time to build up enough forces just to take on the NCR, that meant the NCR could field double those numbers. It wasn't a great situation, and Jase found himself wondering why the hell anyone would want to piss off so many large power bases all at once. Logically, no Legion was good, but no NCR?

"You'd take on the NCR? Aren't they the only ones keeping the Legion out right now?"

Benny sighed, "Yep, which is why I needed the chip, dig? Insurance. Besides, NCR soldiers and citizens are out best customers. It's complicated."

Jase agreed, "Sounds like it." Jase scooped the glass up into his hand and drank the dregs, "Alright Benny. So you think you can oust House, The NRC, and Legion. That's a bold plan. A crap plan, sure as sunshine, but a bold one. Now, I figure you wanna live. Do you wanna live, Benny?" Jase couldn't help but smile, "Convince me."

"Ah ha.. I, look.. you help me, I'll help you. You can get in to the lucky 39. You get in, kill House, and we're sitting pretty. Before long the Chairmen will rule all of Vegas, dig? With enough robot muscle to back it up."

Jase laughed. Was this fucker really trying to convince him to do his dirty work for him? "Dunno guys, what do ya'll think?"

"No."

"That technology is barely safe in House's hands and you want us to hand it all over to you?"

"I don't know, there is merit in the idea of a completely independent New Vegas, but I doubt it would go over well with Freeside or the other Families if you put the Chairmen in charge.."

Jase slapped his thigh and chuckled, "Well, looks here about that my partners think its a raw deal. Not when I got a better one from the NRC itself, House, and the Legion's askin me to come visit too. Arcade here already talked to your little robot friend, and I'm real friendly with Freeside and the Followers. So I an't seein how any of this keeps you alive. You're doin a real shit job of convincing me not to kill you, son."

There we go, Benny began to sweat, looking very worried for the first time since they'd stepped inside. "Look.. you'll get a sweet, juicy cut of that action. Be my p-partner. I'll comp you the suite and pay you regularly, more then. Bonuses too for any special jobs you do, dig?"

"Yeah, I dig. I dig that you think I'm some kind of fuckin sucker. I dig you think that I'm gonna buy some bullshit story about how you need my help. I dig that the moment I let you walk away from here you're gonna call your fuckin bodyguards like the little piss-ant you are. I seen more then my fair share of men like you, Benny. I don't rightly think you know what your doin. Who your fuckin with. Craig?"

Craig took a few steps towards Benny, who began slowly backing up towards the wall. He put both his hands up in the air, "Hey, hey hey baby relax it's all ring-a-ding yeah, no need to get violent."

"Well, maybe you aught of taken half a mind to double check and make sure the guy your shootin is actually dead. Don't have much of a like for cowards and thieves, do we?"

"No, we don't," Craig spoke, hefting the pool stick like a bat, ready to swing.

Benny winced, and in that moment Jase reached forward and pulled the gun sticking out of his pants. Idiot had leverage on them the whole time and never used it. He pushed the barrel into the mans head, leaned forward, and breathed into his ear, "The deck was stacked against you the whole goddamn time, _dig_?" Pulling the trigger had never felt so sweet before.


	13. Best Laid Plans

Lips. Teeth. Tongue. Rough, weather beaten skin, covered in scars. The smell of sweat and gunpowder. Rough hands gently wandering over tightly coiled muscles. Desperate. Hungry. He couldn't focus, couldn't think beyond the moment. Moved his mouth, dragging lips slowly, carefully down the length of his chin. Neck. Collar bone.Lingered there with tongue and teeth, nipping gently at each pass of his lips against flesh. Hips thrust against him and he returned in kind, heat throbbing and thrumming against layers of clothing. Precious little separating them from more. Want coursing through him. Holding back. Don't push, not to fast.

He hadn't been sure exactly how they'd ended up that way, legs and lips intertwined. How they'd even made it back to the Lucky 38, even. The euphoria of blowing Benny's brains out all over the bar was still coursing through him, and every moment after had a dreamlike haze around it. There had been drinks, right there over Benny's cooling body.

Then celebration down on the casino floor. Dancing with each of them in turn in the lounge. He'd spun Veronica around in that frilly gown she'd picked out and could still hear her laughter echoing in his ears. More drinking, a waltz with Arcade, even a spin around with Craig, who had all together been grumpy about the idea but had eventually collapsed in laughter in his arms.

He'd probably wonder where their other companions were, but Craig was pressed against him, driving his hips against his thigh, and all other thoughts fled from his mind. He could only focus on the now, of Craig biting at his lower lip. Of the sniper's hands running across his back. Of how very much he wanted to let his own wander down and free them both from the burden of pants. He wanted to, desperately wanted to touch and tease and taste the smaller man currently biting at his neck. Yet he knew. Knew first hand that it was better to let Craig make the moves.

He had always been a fan of oral sex, and would happily oblige should the request be made. But that was the trick. He didn't want to push. Didn't want to lose this, what ever this might be or might become. He was as desperate to hold on to this, what ever, as he was the idea of pulling the mans throbbing cock into his mouth and finding out what kinds of sounds he could coax out of the sniper.

So he reacted, rather then be proactive, returning the blistering kisses and curious exploration of calloused hands along his chest and shoulders in equal measure. Every touch, every nibble, every lick was torture, and he found himself enthralled by it. Intoxicated in a way that the several shots of whiskey earlier in the night hadn't produced.

He groaned as Craig's hand brushed against the bulge in his pants. Whispered the mans name in praise and permission, voice thick with desire, but did not make a move to call the hand back when it disappeared just as quickly. Instead he reciprocated in kind, sliding the tips if his fingers down the thin cloth separating him from his prize and reveled in the quiet gasp that escaped the lips of the man pressed against him.

* * *

"Jase," he gasped, pressing his forehead into the mans chest as fingers brushed across him. Every inch of his body was on fire and Jase was only stoking the flames. It hadn't been like this, not before. It had, but, different. Had always been the one to let Carla make what ever moves she wanted. Didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to think about this either. Wanted... he didn't know what he wanted, except that he did. He wanted Jase to keep touching him. Wanted to touch him in return. Hadn't known he had been capable of wanting that, but it was Jase, and that made it different.

Jase didn't want him doing anything he didn't want to do. Was waiting for him to make a move, so when he'd brushed against the taller mans cock it hadn't been on purpose. Or, well, it had been, but he hadn't really expected to find him so hard already. Hadn't expected himself to be so hard either. Hadn't expected it when he'd let his mouth fall onto Jase's when they'd gotten back to the Lucky 38. The other two had stumbled off drunk and laughing to find places to bunk down and as soon as they'd disappeared, Boone had pounced.

Hadn't been thinking about it all night. Not at all. Hadn't been thinking about how soft Jase's lips had been, or how surprised by it he'd been. Or how the two guys thing even worked. Hadn't had to push down those thoughts because protecting Jase was as important as trying to sort through how he felt about stuff. Hadn't had to stop himself from wondering what it would be like. Nope.

So when Jase's hand lingered, tracing lines slowly up and down with a fingertip, Boone didn't think much about how to react. He just reacted, reaching over and pulling at the belt that held the mans pants up. Unhooking it with a speed he didn't think he had. Reaching his hand down the mans pants and wrapping his hand around the throbbing cock. Didn't think about it. Nope. Just did it.

Ran his thumb over the head, feeling the slickness of the precum. Listening to the quiet, shocked groan reverberate through him. It was a new sound, one he wasn't accustomed to hearing and yet the shiver that it sent through him made him desperate to hear more. He squeezed gently, sliding his hand slowly up and down the shaft to the base, rubbing his thumb across the base of the head the way he himself liked. It wasn't all that different, if he let himself think about it for a moment. 

Didn't really have a moment more to think about it though.

* * *

Arcade could _hear_ them. It wasn't as if he was intentionally trying to listen. That would be eaves dropping and quite creepy. So no, he quite reasonably chalked it up to thin walls, and pulled the pillow over his head. Of course, when he did that he couldn't hear anything, and if he couldn't then maybe he also couldn't hear of Mr. House's robots tried to storm the hotel room.

So, logically, off the pillow went. It wasn't as if he wanted to hear them. It really was just.. Okay who was he kidding. Lying to himself wasn't going to do any good. Besides, he'd only known them a couple of days. If having been right in his initial assumption was annoying, well it wasn't as if it was the first time. Being right all the time was a burden, after all.

So if he had to lay there ans listen to the muffled noises of the men in the other room, well, he'd guess he'd just have to suffer. For being right, that is. It wasn't as if he didn't get the appeal. Of Mik, at least. He wasn't sure what he saw in the smaller man. Boone wasn't ugly, mind, just didn't scream 'I like men' in any sort of capacity. Arcade had been relatively sure, with what Veronica had told him, that Boone was straight. Then again, it wasn't as if he himself were actively looking for companionship lately. It was really all far to messy, and usually always ended up the same way.

They'd want to know more, about him and his past and his family. Being a cautious man, knowing how many people he would put in danger, how many people he had put in danger in the past to shortsightedness, he would inevitably run screaming from any commitment that presented itself to him. He was boring because he needed to be boring. As lonely as that made him.

He rolled onto his side to check in to see if Veronica was having as much trouble sleeping as he was, with all the distractions. That he was absolutely trying to ignore and absolutely not listen to and also not allow himself to wallow in self pitty. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, she was out cold. Snoring even. In passing he half wondered why he hadn't noticed. It wasn't particularly quiet.

He let himself ponder a while about why she still hadn't told anyone about the fact that she was clearly Brotherhood. Could it be that she was exiled? It didn't seem that way. He knew that the NCR and The Brotherhood weren't on friendly terms, but it wasn't as if.. ah, well, he supposed she had her reasons all things considering. It wasn't as if he was about to let it slip what organization his family was apart of either. Or well, formerly. The NCR wasn't exactly hunting down the Brotherhood the way they were former Enclave members, but from the sound of the altercation they'd had in the Mojave a few years back it would hardly surprise him.

He rolled back, coming to the realization that he couldn't, in fact, hear them unless he was focused on it. Had he been focused on it? Why would he do such a thing? It wasn't as if he was harboring any jealousy about the situation. Nor was he particularly inclined to get involved in any sort of, entanglement, at the present. No. He reminded himself that only children let themselves be bothered by other peoples happiness. He wasn't unhappy. He was here to make sure they stayed in one piece. As a doctor. Not that he was the best medical doctor, if he were honest with himself. He liked to believe he was honest with himself.

* * *

Veronica hadn't known what time of the morning it was when she managed to stumble out of bed. She was only mostly hungover. It couldn't be very late though. Her internal clock was pretty good, all things considered. If anyone was used to waking up in a place with no windows, it was her. After checking in with Eddie to see what time it was, she headed to the kitchen. What they all needed was a good, hearty breakfast.

To her disappointment, they were severely lacking in anything even remotely breakfasty. She signed and got to work with what they had, bumbling around in the small kitchen. They were woefully lacking in the food supplies department. Rex wagged his tail as she weaved around him and she paused in her search long enough to pat the sweet boy. They didn't have much, just what food that they had brought with them. She wondered if she aught to check in with Victor and see if the securitrons would be willing to make grocery runs. If they were going to be here for any length of time it would be good to have food stocked for meals. After a few moments of holding the refrigerator open and staring at the meager supplies, she decided to do just that.

"Victor?" She called out as she rounded the corner into the hallway.

"Well Howdee Ma'am! What can I do for you this fine morning?"

She smiled. As creepy as it was to have a securitron stationed as guard outside the elevator door, it was still nice to hear the cheerful greeting, "I was wondering, I know you guys don't eat and I'm not sure how much Mr. House has in the way of supplies. Would it be possible to get a delivery of groceries set up? If we're going to be here a while, which I assume we are since Mik's decided to work with Mr. House?"

"Hmm. Welp, I don't think we've got supplies handy but I'll check with Mr. House'n see what we can do. Might be that ya'll will have to do a bit of that on your own. Let me get back to you, darlin."

Veronica nodded to the securitron, "Thank you for checking Victor. If it comes to that I don't mind." Victor's screen flickered and went dark, likely swapping to another unit deeper in the hotel. Well, that was that for the moment. She headed back into the kitchen to attempt to make some semblance of coffee. They didn't have any eggs or meat, but she'd make due with what fruits and veggies they'd managed to scavenge on their way into Vegas. Well, what veggies that hadn't started going weird, at any rate.

About halfway through cooking up the random assortment of peppers, xandar root, and other various things she had managed to scrounge up, Arcade came wandering into the kitchen. He had a scowl on his face that made her decide pretty quickly that he must not have slept well. With out word she handed him a mug full of hot tea, the best she could manage since they had nothing else, and gave him a smile.

Arcade nodded silently and sat down, hovering over the mug as if it was his saving grace. She slid a plate in front of him, and sat down with her own. It wasn't terrible, if a bit spicey for a hangover breakfast. Hopefully no one puked. About halfway into her plate, Boone appeared, waving a greeting and mumbling a thank you as he scooped himself a plate. He seemed to be in much better spirits then Arcade. She muttered a hello around her food.

* * *

Jase sighed as he rested his head against the cold elevator wall. What was he gonna to do? The euphoria of the previous night had worn off, and he almost wished he hadn't gotten up. It had been nice to wake up next to someone. Nice to hold someone in his arms and bask in the quiet warmth of being close to someone again. It had been a might to long. He hadn't pushed, let Craig make the choices and moves. If he let himself focus on the memory rather then the words of the Computer man's still echoing in his mind it almost took the edge off. Not quite though.

House had instructed him to go to the Legion.

He really didn't know if he had it in him to do it though. He knew Craig would absolutely be against it, unless it was to cull the whole fucking camp. He wasn't opposed to it really, but he had a reason to stay alive for the first time in years. Wasn't rightly sure it was a good plan. No. He had another idea. Wasn't quite sure if they'd stick around for it, but it was worth a shot. Something he wanted to discuss with them.

The elevator doors swung open and Victor greeted him with that ridiculous cowboy face of his, "Hello again, Vic. Where's everyone?"

"Well I think they might be in the kitchen, Partner!"

"Thanks Vic." He tipped his hat to the bot and headed that way. Rounding the corner he spotted the three of them sat at the table, quietly stuffing their faces with something.

"Ooh, food? Who cooked?"

"Mhy!" Veronica spoke up, mouth full of food and a pleased look on her face.

"Thank you darlin, that's mighty kind," He replied as he made his way over to grab some of his own. As he passed by he brushed up against Craig's shoulder, who glanced up and gave him a smile. Yep, definitely needed to stay alive to keep seein the man smile like that at him. Once he filled his plate he sat opposite Veronica.

"So, went up to see Mr. House."

Three sets of eyes rested upon him, which brought a smile to his face, regardless of the dread pooling in his stomach. No time like the present, he supposed. "I was right, this job's a whole lot bigger then just bringin a computer man a shiny poker chip. Seems Mr. House is keen on.. keeping me employed. Seems like it may be a lot, but time'll tell on that. So. I figure, lets have a real sit down. Not here, mind. Soon. Gotta take Rex up to see that doctor anyhow. Might as well take a walk."

He took a deep breath, "Unless ya'll are keen to move on to other things. Wont rightly blame you. I do appreciate the help up until now though. Been a while since I've been around folks who are just.. genuinely good company."

Veronica shook her head, "I'm out to see the world, so if you're good with having me along, I'm not in any hurry to run back home."

Craig was staring into his plate, and Jase wondered what he was thinking. After a moment he looked up, "Not going anywhere."

Jase smiled at that, and gave a nod and a wink before turning his attention towards Arcade. Arcade was the least likely to stick around, he knew that well enough. It was mostly for his benefit, seeing as how he already figured Veronica was gonna stick around a while. He wasn't worried about Craig suddenly telling him to jump off the Hoover Dam unless he did something like become Caesar's pet.

Arcade looked directly back at him, chewing and pensive. He swallowed, "Well, I've a vested interest in making sure Rex gets better. A happy King is a happy Freeside after all. Julie will have my head if I don't at see at least that much through. So, sure, lets take the walk up to Jacobstown and have a chat."

Jase nodded. He could respect that, "Alrighty. Lets head out in an hour or so then? Gonna be a day or so's walk I expect, if we don't run into trouble along the way."

"We're gonna need to stop before we head out. Supplies are getting low," Craig piped up, causing all three to turn and look at him in mild shock. "What, I keep tabs."

Jase laughed, "Glad someone is, though I spec' Veronica was about to say the same thing?"

"Yeah I was actually. I noticed this morning. Also I asked Victor if we could get a deliver of food sent here, assuming we're staying here for the foreseeable future?"

"That's actually a great idea, assuming that is the case," Arcade nodded, mildly impressed by her initiative. Jase had to agree, it was.

"Likely this will be.. home for the moment, yep. It's complicated and something we need to discuss while we're walking. Also thinkin it may be a good idea to head back down towards the Mojave outpost as well. Though sending a message might be easier, in case they've already left." Jase rubbed his chin, tugging gently at his beard as he spoke.

"They?" Craig asked, his mouth full of the last fork full of food.

Jase smirked and slid his plate over towards him, "Yep. Old friend of mine. Could be they've moved on by now, headed back to California. Maybe they didn't even make it this far. Might be that I've got a shit memory and it ain't but six months from now before they get here. Worth checkin out either way though. We... might need an extra few hands."

He was doing a shitty job of being vague, but until he explained what his plan was, it would have to do. He didn't want to speak to openly inside the 38. Not with Victor standing guard just around the corner. No. He'd explain on the way, get their opinions. Weigh the options. Find out if Cass had ever made it to the Mojave. They were going to need all the help they could get.


	14. Mojave's Real Hot and Real A Lot

Every part of him hurt. Worn down to the bone tired. How long? Weeks? It felt like weeks. The date on his pip boy flashed in disagreement when he lifted his wrist to confirm how weary he felt. It had only been seventy two hours. Only. He let his wrist fall with a sigh and leaned forward to scoop his hat up off the ground. Apparently it hadn't wanted to stay on his head when he.. didn't want to really think about how he'd managed to reappear in the drive in parking lot. He dusted it off and sat it on his head, instinctively wincing before chuckling. Of all the things that didn't hurt anymore...

He sighed again, tucked the transport device into his pack, and headed in the direction of the Mojave outpost. Hopefully Craig was.. he shook his head, didn't want to think about the fact that the man had very likely.. no he needed to head back that way, and fast.

* * *

"Look, its Miki. It's pretty likely he just ran into someone in need. Like I said before, It'll be fine. Relax. Have a drink."

Craig felt his shoulders stiffen as he pulled the binoculars away from his face to glare at the voice beside him. Rose of Sharon Cassidy just smiled in return, offering up the bottle of whiskey she had been nursing. Why hadn't she gone with him? Why hadn't he? It didn't sit right, and for the last two days he had been pacing around like a caged animal. Every fiber of his being told him something was wrong when Jase hadn't come back that first night.

_"You rest, help Cass get resupplied. Ain't a short hike back to Novac and Veronica ain't due back to meet us till Tuesday anyway. I'll go check it out to calm the rangers down. NCR bein scared and pissy's just about the last thing we need right now."_

Boone ignored the offer, swearing quietly under his breath. He should have gone with him. Should have sent Cass with him. Shouldn't have let him go at all. Beside him Rex whined. He instinctively reached down to comfort him. Rex leaned into the pat, but didn't take his eyes off the horizon, the direction Mik had walked three days ago. If Boone had been worried before, it had only been amplified when the robot dog had come back alone.

He brought the binoculars up to his face to do another scan, throat tightening as thoughts of Powder Gangers, Raiders, or worse.. Legion, swarmed through his mind. He tried to remind himself that the dog had come back unharmed. Tired and thirsty, worried definitely, but unharmed. If they had been attacked he had very little doubt the dog would have died trying to defend Jase. Only a slightly comforting thought. Especially since Rex absolutely would not have left his side either. What ever had happened, it had been out of the dogs ability to follow.

Before his thoughts could truly run away with him, Cass's voice broke through again, "Right so tell me what the plan is again?"

He sighed, exasperated. There really was only so much he could explain while being surrounded by Rangers and NCR soldiers. Jase had told Cass as much. He hadn't exactly enjoyed the idea of it all, but Jase had been honest about his own worries. Even if Boone didn't agree it was the best course of action, he trusted Jase. If it had taken him a little to warm up to it all, well.. he'd get there eventually or at the very least he'd make sure to help pick up the pieces when it didn't pan out.

"We're supposed to meet the others in Novac and work out the rest from there."

Beside him, Cass took a swig off the bottle in her hands before replying, "Right, and the rest being a Follower, a Grandma, and a Trader?"

Boone grit his teeth and took a deep breath, "...Yes." The details were light on purpose, although the 'Grandma' was explained in more detail to her before Jase had left. NCR actually didn't have a problem with most Super Mutants, but the Mojave wasn't NCR either.

"And once the rest is worked out, the whole bunch of us are headed to Vegas?"

"...Yes."

* * *

Trying to get Boone to talk was like pulling teeth. Except you usually drank before you did that to take the edge off. Kid was all edges. She got that, got why. She was worried too. Probably less worried then Boone was though, considering how much longer she'd known Jase Mikaelson. He was the kinda guy who could handle his shit. One of the reasons she considered him a friend, honestly. Miki had a lot of shit, more then most, at least as much as her own shit she was currently wallowing in. Didn't matter though. When he'd shown up, all smiles and full of new scars, it had been a welcome relief.

Less so now, with him having been gone for almost three days. Having left her with the equivalent of a paranoid Deathclaw. If Miki didn't return soon, it was very likely there was nothing she was going to be able do to stop the kid from killing anything that got in his path. She could appreciate that, she felt like that a lot these days. But she got the distinct impression that one of those things would be himself. If Miki was fine, but the kid ran off and got himself killed, she was pretty sure it would break him. Cass wasn't going to be the one who failed to save Miki from himself. Not again.

"And the reason we're all going to Vegas is because he's working for House?"

".....Yes," Boone's hesitation spoke volumes. She understood that there was a lot more to that story that she hadn't heard yet. She'd hear it, likely on the trek to Novac, but that didn't mean it didn't get her hackles up. Miki was usually pretty even tempered about, well, everything. Except for when she saw him last. It concerned her, more due to the thought that Miki might still be trying to get himself killed, then anything else.

She gave Boone a reassuring grin and took a swig off her bottle. Concern or no concern, the best thing she could do in the moment was keep the kid from launching himself face first into death. "So, how'd you meet him? Its gotta be a one hell of a story."

Boone shifted the weight from one foot to the other and answered with out bothering to pull his attention from spotting, "He helped me."

Cass snorted. Of course he helped the kid. Helping was Miki's default. "Yeah I get that. Helped me too, when we were kids."

If Boone had been trying to mostly ignore her up until then, the slight shift in his physicality told her that she'd caught his attention, so she continued, "Was a real fuckin asshole back in the day, if you can believe it. First real job I ever took I fucked up so hard I was blacklisted from caravaning for almost a year. Met him around then, real fucking low, trying to figure out if I should just give in and hook. Dragged my ass through so much bullshit to help me get my company off the ground."

Boone had finally pulled his gaze away from the road to give her a steady, curious look. Got'm. Good story'll pull anyone out of their own head. Cass grinned through her next swig, "Good fucking mess I'm in now, though. All that help for nothing."

"Your caravans keep getting attacked." A statement, not a question. But it was more willing conversation out of the kid then she'd heard in three days, so it was progress.

"Yep. Not real sure who I pissed off but when I find the son-of-a-bitch who keep killing my people..." she trailed off, and winked at him before she continued, "Well at least if nothing else I can cut my losses with the sale to Crimson. The deal with House any good or it the kind of shitshow that needs hands to help dig?"

Boone was silent for a long moment before responding, "We've got shovels."

Cass couldn't help but laugh, "Well shit, will you look at that, Rex. The kids got jokes. No wonder he's so smitten eh?" She winked down at the dog, who glanced up in return, tail wagging.

Boone muttered something life threatening under his breath, but the feint color on his cheeks only caused her to laugh harder and punch him gently in the shoulder. "I told you, I've known him a while. Don't worry to hard, I'm not interested in the details. Lisa'll be disappointed, but she did that shit to herself anyway so fuck that bitch."

Boone rose an eyebrow, "Lisa?"

Fuck. Fuck her and her fucking big mouth. She sighed, "Yeah, pretty thing he was shacked up with a while back. Real piece of shit. Wasn't like he was all heart eyes for her either. Just... tryin to fill a hole," She paused for a half second, "Hah, both ways I guess. Anyway when the last shoe dropped she pulled her usual fucking hot garbage fire bullshit to try and make it about her. Honestly I was impressed he didn't fucking floor the bitch. I did when I found out. After all the shit he went through, for her to try and convince him that it was a good thing.."

Boone's jaw twitched, "His sister?"

She hadn't figured he'd talked about it, but honestly with how Miki had looked at Boone, it didn't really surprise her all that much either. She nodded, then took a swig off her bottle. "Whole thing was fucked. I'm sure he still blames himself for it too."

"You hit her?"

Cass smirked, "Of course I hit her. I would have put a bullet in her head if I didn't think it would do more harm then good. Half the reason I'm out here was to see if I could catch up to him before he went and did something stupid."

Boone sighed, "Like get shot."

Cass raised her eyebrows and her bottle at the same time in acknowledgement. "Before.. that, I had been hoping he'd agree to head here with the last round to keep'm safe. Hadn't been planing on coming myself. Never got the chance to ask. Just a note saying some real fucking concerning shit. Plans changed, here I am, good and fucked. But, glad that he's..."

Boone abruptly stood up in time to the dog beside them letting loose a loud bark, cutting her off mid sentence. In half a blink both man and dog were halfway down the stair case, leaving her staring after them. She grinned and drank the dregs of her bottle before getting up.

* * *

It absolutely didn't help his aching body when Craig slammed into him, except that it did. It helped so goddamned much that he had to bury his face into that muscular shoulder and just breath him in. It took every once of restraint to keep the tears from flowing, it helped so fucking much. Not that he could breath the way Craig was squeezing. He let himself mutter a quiet prayer in thanks that his ribs weren't broken before pulling back far enough to place a kiss on the mans forehead. Then thought another as his lips crashed against Craig's. So fucking thankful. Thank you, Lord Almighty, for letting him survive that fucking crater and those fucking insanity educing brains to come out on the other side and be able to kiss this fucking beautiful man.

When he finally managed to calm down enough to pull away and look at him, he realized that Craig was cupping his face and he felt his heart melt all over again, "Darlin, you are a sight for sore eyes."

Craig pulled away, carefully checking him over. Jase felt himself chuckle, the giddiness of being crashed into and the joy of being not the fuck in the Big M.T. hitting him again. And then everything went white and hot, the air leaving his lungs by force as a fist, Craig's fist, buried itself into his stomach.

Jase coughed and sputtered as he attempted to pull air into his lugs and managed to rasp out, "Yep, probably deserved that."

"Fuck Jase.. fuck you. Where were you? What happened? Are you alright? I probably shouldn't have hit you sorry." Craig's words poured out in an angry, frustrated jumble as he continued checking Jase over. If he'd had half a breath to laugh, he would. Instead he stood up as straight as possible and sucked in a breath or two. Then, when he'd managed to properly stop seeing the stars around the edge of his vision, he reached down to pat the dog attempting to jump into his arms. Then he scooped his hat up off the ground for the second time that day and brushed it off before leaning in to kiss Craig again.

"I'm alright, Darlin. It's a long fuckin story and I need a goddamned nap and some food, but I'm alright. Sorry for causing you worry," He smiled down at the smaller man, biting back laughter. Instead he just wrapped his arms around him and gave a squeeze. He caught sight of Cass coming down the hill and gave her a big, shit eating grin and a nod before releasing Craig. "Glad it was you that hit me and not Veronica, though she might when she catch's wind."

"Catches wind of what?" Cass had finally reached them, and despite being glad to see her too, he was finding it hard to keep himself from draging Boone off to their room in the inn.

"Some news about some of her folks that went missing a while back is all. Only half joking about getting hit, but only cause Miss 'Ronni's a hitter. Not real keen on finding out what it feels like," he grinned, sliding his hat back onto his head.

"Maybe I should let her. What the fuck..?" Craig's voice trailed off and Jase turned his grin toward him again.

"It's a lot, Darlin. A lot a lot. Real fuckin nuts. Reckon I don't quite believe it myself. All in good time though. I'm fucking starving. Lets go get some goddamned food."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I'm still plugging away at this, honest! Between quarantine insanity and a Windows rollback that lost me three chapters worth of work it's taken a bit to build up motivation to put fingers to keyboard. So, bit of a time skip thanks to frustrations at not quite remembering the finer details. I hope you're all safe and well, and thank you so much for the encouraging comments urging me to keep plugging along! This one's short and sweet, but there's a much more meaty chapter in the pipe!


	15. Smoke and Mirrors

Lily smiled gently across the concourse at Jimmy. He was such a good boy, just like she remembered. Being so kind to Miss Daisy as they chatted. Lily liked Miss Daisy. She reminded her of the girls back home. In the vault. They would sit and laugh and play cards. Talk about their grandchildren and..

Miss Daisy had been a bit prickly when Jimmy had introduced them to her.

Leo hadn't liked it, said she wasn't to be trusted. He had wanted to smash and smash and smash Miss Daisy into paste for not being nice but Jimmy..

Jimmy...

No.

No, not Jimmy.. Arcade?

Arcade, yes, that was his name. He wasn't her Jimmy, but he was still a very good boy.

A good boy like her Jimmy.

Jimmy who had gone off to talk to those nice men and women in the military gear. Oh, what was the name? New California?

Yes, that's what it was. New California.

Yes, Jimmy wasn't here but he would be back. Wasn't that right Leo?

_**JIMMY IS DEAD.** _

Lily frowned. That was no way to talk about Jimmy. Be Quiet, Leo!

She pulled her gaze away from Arcade and Miss Daisy. She looked down at the scarf she was working on. Jimmy would love the scarf, she knew. It was getting colder at night and Jimmy was such a thin boy, he needed all the help he could get. "I wish he'd eat more, he's so skinny."

_**JIMMY IS DEAD.** _

Leo's hands were shaking, gripping the knitting needles tightly until the knuckles turned white. She frowned again, "Shh, don't say such things. Jimmy went with that other boy to go talk to the nice Military folks."

_**JIMMY. IS. DEAD.** _

_**DEAD.** _

_**DEAD.** _

_**JIMMY IS DEAD AND LEO MAKE THEM ALL DEAD TOO.** _

_**DANGEROUS.** _

_**MUST PROTECT LILY.**_

"Hush now Leo. Shh, it's okay. Jimmy's friends are nice. We're going to help them because they helped us. Remember?" Lily reached out with her own hand, releasing the knitting needle to gently pat Leo's hand. The rumble of his voice quieting with the gesture.

"Uhm, excuse me, Miss Lily?"

Lily and Leo both looked up to see who had addressed them. Arcade stood a few feet away, a nervous smile on his face, "Hmm, what is it dearie?"

Arcade shifted his weight slightly. If Lily didn't notice the nervousness in the lengthy body of the man in the doctors coat, Leo did. Leo would have smashed the face of the blonde doctor if Lily had only let him. Leo would protect Lily. Nice Lily. Gentle Lily.

"You asked me to remind you when it was time to take your medication," Arcade adjusted his glasses, fidgeted, but remained a respectable distance away from Lily.

  
_**Dangerous. Kill him kill him kill him.** _

  
"Hush Leo! Yes, yes it is that time again isn't it?" Lily sighed and set her needlework down on the bench next to her to fish out her pill bottle. It took a moment, Leo's hands still mostly in the way as she fumbled with the cap.

_**No Lily. Dangerous! Medicine Bad, Man bad. Doctor Bad. Smash them. Smash them smash them smash them!!** **!!**_

She managed to shake two pills out of the bottle and quickly put them in her mouth before Leo could get any angrier. She swallowed, and smiled to Arcade, "There. I think I aught to take a nap, don't you think so Dearie?"

_**NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!** _

Arcade nodded to her, "Boone's room is closest." He didn't get closer to her, gesturing to the small building to the left of her bench.

She smiled, "Ah, good idea. Yes. I will take a nap and wait for Jimmy. He should be back today yes?"

Arcade nodded, "Ah, yes.. Mik should be back this evening. Veronica is due back any time now as well."

Veronica was a good girl. She knew. "Good good. If she comes back before Jimmy you tell her that I am napping and that I want to hear all about how her family is when I wake up. Such a nice girl."

Arcade smiled at her again, taking a step or two back when she rose from her spot on the bench, "I will do that. Rest well, Miss Lily."

She dusted off her sundress and scooped up the knitting, "I've been working on a scarf for Jimmy. He's a good boy. He needs to eat more. It gets so cold out here in the desert at night, isn't that right Leo?" She smiled at Arcade and headed into the little cabin to take a nap, Leo screaming at her all the way.

* * *

The sun was setting by the time they came around the bend, the big dinosaur gift shop peaking its roaring head up over the hills as they approached Ranger Station Charlie. Every single one of his nerves were on edge, especially after Jase had explained what the hell had happened. Not that he entirely believed it, but Jase wasn't a liar. If he claimed he had been imprisoned by a bunch of robo-brains in an old world science lab... well then it couldn't be weirder then anything else they'd come across so far. A Supermutant that was Actually A Grandmother was on that list, after all. As for feeling prickly..

Boone always felt prickly. Prickly was easier to feel then other feelings. Easier to be annoyed at something Arcade or Veronica said then to think about having to deal with Manny. Easier to be alert for attacks that might jump out at them, then thinking about Jase. How worried he'd been. How glad he had been when Jase had come back safely and mostly unharmed. How openly Jase wore his affection for Rose of Sharon Cassidy.

He wasn't jealous of how easily Cass and Jase chatted. That was stupid. Jase payed about as much attention and respect to Cass as he did Veronica. It didn't matter that they were more familiar. That she had known him before... before. Before there was the sadness around the edges of his smile. Like the Jase he had met. Both devilish and kind. Those things still existed, but were weighed down. He knew why. If the sadness weighed him down less while talking to Cass, Boone absolutely had not noticed and it did not make him feel like hitting something. Nope.

What did make him feel like hitting something was how quiet it was. The Ranger Station should be bustling with guards and soldiers. It wasn't that late, and even if they'd sent most out on a scouting run there should still be guards. Something was wrong.

"Something's wrong." The easy smile Jase had been giving to Cass slid off his face, speaking up before Boone could voice his concerns. He halted mid step to put a hand up to signal them to stop, cutting Cass off mid sentence.

Boone grunted quietly in agreement and pulled his rifle scope up to peer through it, "No guards."

"Shit," Cass hissed, ducking against the metal wall and pulling her rifle out, "There normally supposed to be guards?"

"Yes," Boone kept his voice low as slung his rifle over his shoulder, "Gonna go high."

Jase nodded, pulling the pistol out the holster on his belt, "When you're set, whistle."

* * *

Jase tucked himself low against the metal wall, adjusting his hat. He lifted his gaze to catch Boone's form disappear over the top of the cliff side opposite them. It would only be a few more moments before the whistle came, he knew, but that didn't take the the edge off. He knew it was ridiculous to worry, there were more important things to be concerned about then whether a trained soldier with aim like a computer would be safe reaching high ground. That didn't stop him from holding his breath.

"He'll be fine, Mikki," Cass' voice was quiet beside him, "This NCR?"

Jase pulled his gaze away from the hillside and gave a nod, "Rangers. Should be a whole lot'v'em."

"Shit," she hissed, "We sure they're just not out on patrol?"

Jase shook his head. From what he remembered, they might be out on patrol, but.. "Some maybe, not all."

Cass nodded, then pulled the bolt on her rifle. Jase released the clip on Maria, checking to make sure there were enough bullets before replacing it. It was unlikely they'd have to worry about a fire fight, but better ready then not. Just as the clip clicked back into place, a sharp, shrill noise echoed off the walls of the canyon, blending into ambiance of chirping nighttime sounds. Boone was in place.

"Ready?" Jase breathed towards Cass, not waiting for her answer. He crept low towards the open gate.

* * *

Veronica dropped her heavy pack onto the ground and sighed, wiping away the sweat on her brow. She hadn't expected to be back before Mik, but at least it gave her a bit longer to work out exactly how she was supposed to explain to him about what she'd been asked. Sitting down on the bed, she let her head fall into her hands.

_Bring them to meet us, if you feel this strongly about it._

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. She hadn't told them yet and now Elder MacNamara wanted her to just.. bring them to the bunker. Would they be angry that she hadn't spoken up? Mik might not be, he didn't seem the type, but Boone... Boone would likely be furious. How else would an NCR soldier react to finding out she was a Brotherhood Scribe? Or Arcade? He might not be as angry but she was pretty sure there was more to the Follower doctor then he let on. She was pretty sure Miss Lily absolutely couldn't come. She was absolutely, almost positively, possibly completely screwed.

"Hey kid. You alright?"

Veronica jumped out of her skin, "Arcade! Fuck don't DO that!"

Arcade chuckled, closing the door behind him, "Sorry, it wasn't my intention to send you into the next life. How was the trip home?"

Veronica chuckled nervously, once her heartbeat settled enough to allow her to breath, "Well.."

"Let me guess, the Brotherhood wasn't to thrilled at you palling around with House's lacky?"

Veronica blinked a few times, furrowing her brow. After a moment she managed to make her brain work, "Haaa...haha? Wh-what do you mean B-rotherhood? I just.. went home to see my family..."

"Your family that lives in a bunker and refuses to deal with the outside world. The family who taught you the intricacies of old world tech, and yet you don't wear a pipboy or have the naivety of someone from a Vault? That family?"

Veronica stood up quickly, running her fingers through her hair, "Ah haha.. ha.. haaa fuck. Look, Arcade you ca-"

"Can't tell Mik because he'll freak out? Or Boone who's probably been ordered to kill Brotherhood members on sight?" Arcade was giving her a stern look, which only caused a secondary wave of panic shoot through her. Fuck fuck fuck fuck...

"I just.. I mean.."

A huge grin broke over his face, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses, "Oh relax, I'm not going to tell them. I figured it out ages ago anyway."

Veronica felt her insides collapse, and instinctively threw a punch towards the taller mans shoulder, "You're such a dick"

Arcade laughed, "Ow, careful. I'm not as sturdy as our other companions.." He rubbed at his arm as he sat down on the bed, "Although it is true that I can be quite the dick when I need to be. I'm sorry. Now, sit down and tell me what happened. You're secret is safe with me, I promise."

She sighed, collapsing on to the bed beside him and flopping backwards. It had been a long few days. To long. She let her arm fall over her face as she sighed, resigning herself to telling Arcade everything that had transpired.

* * *

Cass peeked around the corner of one of the open trailers rifle first. Empty, just like the others. Only a few bedrolls, ready and waiting for their owners return. No signs of struggle either. What ever had drawn the Rangers away from the station hadn't been due to a firefight nearby. She pulled back and waved a hand to signal the all clear to Mikki. He was stationed near by the doorway to the makeshift base, pistol in hand. She shifted her weight, creeping closer to flank the opposite side of the door.

Quietly, she breathed, "Nothing."

Mikki nodded to her. After a moment he reached out to wrap a hand around the doorknob. Slowly he tested to see if it was unlocked, the handle turning slowly before clicking. A deep breath, then he mouthed a countdown... 3... 2... and swung the door open. Cass shoved the barrel of her rifle through the doorway, trigger finger ready to blow the brains out of whomever came into her view. Blood pounded in her ears as she scanned the room. No one. She pulled back quickly, pressing herself against the wall again and shook her head. Mikki frowned, wrapping both hands around the grip of his pistol and walked in.

She followed closely, being careful not to point her gun in Mikki's direction. Inside the room was a desk. On the top a two way radio sat in silence, the microphone swinging freely over the edge by its cord. The chair was overturned, but otherwise nothing seemed disturbed or out of place. Well, as far as she could tell anyway. She hadn't seen it prior. Mikki hefted his pistol in the direction of a door on the opposite side of the room. She nodded and quietly made her way over towards the empty wall, pressing her back against it. Both hands on his pistol, Mikki nodded to her, and she slowly turned the door knob and pushed, falling back against the wall as soon as her fingers fell away.

Other then the sound of her own breathing and the door creaking, nothing. Mikki peered around the corner before sighing, the click of the saftey returning to its place on the pistol before he tucked it into its holster, "Empty."

She felt herself relax and took a deep breath before pulling the pin on the chamber to pop the bullet free. It bounced out and onto the floor once, twice, before she scooped it up and slung her rifle over her shoulder, "Well.. fuck."

Mikki pulled the hat off of his head and scratched, "I don't rightly get it. It's like they just up and abandoned the place. The fuck happened?"

Cass shrugged and pulled her flask out of her pocket, "Hell if I know. I'm gonna drink this and try to stop dying from panic. Maybe check the desk?" Her hand shook as she unscrewed the cap. She knew helping him would lead to trouble, but a whole ass NCR outpost just disappearing was a lot more then just trouble.

* * *

Arcade ran his hand through his hair and sighed before patting Veronica on the knee, "Well that's.. certainly a story. And now your Elder wants us to come talk to him?"

From her position on the bed, one she hadn't moved from since she sat down, Veronica sighed, "Yes."

"In person."

"Yes."

"You realize how insane that is don't you? They want you to bring a Follower, a Super Mutant, a former NCR soldier, and a Courier into a bunker full of people armed to the teeth and walking around in metal suits."

"...yes. Well.. I didn't tell them about Lily." Veronica moved her arm away from her face and sighed, "Didn't think they'd be real keen on the idea."

Arcade chuckled, "Yes I can see that. The Brotherhood and Super Mutants go together about as well as powdered Cazador venom and junkies.."

"What am I going to do?" Her voice pitched into a whine, and Arcade felt himself chuckle again. It was a predicament. Especially considering what he'd discussed with Daisy over the last few days. It worried him that so many powerful figures seemed interested in Mik. That didn't mean it had to be a bad thing though. His.. issues would just have to wait.

After a moment, he said as much, "I think you aught to tell him. Them."

Veronica sat up, "Are you serious?"

Arcade nodded, "Most of the time. Logically speaking it's not the worst idea we've had this week."

"Funny."

Arcade smirked, "Look at it like this. Your family doesn't want to get caught up in any more trouble with the NCR, right? It's the reason they all but vanished after HELIOS."

Veronica nodded, "Father Elijah really went off the deep end and put us in a bad situation, yeah."

"And yet, your Elder seems interested enough. He's both concerned enough about the situation, and your health that he's willing to speak with us, right?" Arcade gestured towards Veronica.

She frowned, "Yeah, I guess."

"Well, I don't know if you've met our illustrious leader, but If anyone could convince the Brotherhood to help us wrestle control of New Vegas from three armies, one almost entirely built out of robots, its Mik, don't you think?"

Veronica groaned, "No. Yes? Ugh. I don't know. I don't think they'd be willing to help."

"Hmm," Arcade furrowed his brow in thought, "Maybe helping isn't the right word. Staying out of the way? It's not as if we need more enemies, and it's a fair bet House or the NCR aren't going to leave them sitting in the desert by themselves for very long. Did you tell them the full plan or?"

Veronica shook her head, "You mean the insanity of doing exactly what House asked and upgrading the securitrons? To my family of 'Technology is bad and no one but us can have it' jarheads willing to shoot on sight?"

"Fair point. Well, if you don't think they'll outright agree to help, then we're going to need them to agree to just stay out of the way, reasur-" Arcade's words were cut off as a loud rumble shook the walls of the hotel room.

Veronica shot up to her feet, "Uh.. what the fuck was that?"

* * *

Jase rummaged through the desk drawers as Cass drank herself calm. It always tickled him that she never changed. Not really. It was a comfort, honestly, to know that the people from his past weren't all past. Cass had always been a good friend. Near on to family towards the end. If anything he'd been the worlds biggest asshole for thinking he could just up and go off to get himself killed with out her worrying about him. It figured. He was only surprised she hadn't hit him when he'd walked into the bar a few days ago.

Nothing in that drawer, he moved on to the next, pushing the tipped over chair out of his way with a foot as he slid it open.

"Anything?"

He lifted his gaze towards Cass's voice and grinned, "Not yet. Find anything at the bottom of that flask?"

She grinned from behind her flask, "I'd say more then what you found at the end of that pistol, but that'd be a lie. Boone.. seems like a good guy."

Jase chuckled, "Well I ain't sure he'd appreciate bein called a good man, but.. yeah, he is."

Cass rose an eyebrow, "Doesn't wanna be called a good man? He real fucked in the head? You actually into broken now?" then she snorted, "Well, I guess I already know that answer. Lisa sure as shit wasn't any kind of Pristine."

"Hey now, that ain't nice. Lisa had her good parts. Mind they were..." Jase cupped his hands in front of his chest and made them bounce a few times.

Cass made a gagging noise, pretending to stick her finger down her throat, "Yuck. Nice rack or not, I'm not into crazy."

"Since when?" Jase snickered and closed the drawer. Nothing in there either.

"Fuck you, since always."

"Hah... Tammy." Jase grinned at her, tensing slightly in case she decided to throw the flask directly at his head.

She didn't. Instead she hoisted a single finger in his direction. He laughed again and let himself relax, reaching down to pull open another drawer.

"You're just jealous I got there first." She smirked and took another drink off her flask, "Besides, you were already head over heals for Dre-"

Jase's ears barely registered the sound, his attention split between the drawer he'd just opened and Cass's words. Barely, but he had. His eyes snapped down in time to catch the grenade as it fell, hand outstretched as it landed in his palm. With one smooth motion he wrapped his fingers around it and heaved it in the direction of the open doorway, "GET DOWN!!"

* * *

Boone kept his scope trained on the camp below, even as he allowed himself to listen to his surroundings. If there were going to be an ambush, it probably would have come sooner. As soon as Jase and Cass had entered the camp. He half worried the ambush was meant for him. Considering how his life had been up till now, he more then half worried about it, but he needed to keep his focus from splitting farther. He shifted his legs, adjusting his position in the dirt, pulling his face away from the scope long enough to blink.

He shouldn't have. As his eye resettled upon the scope the camp below exploded.

"JASE!"


	16. From Bad, to Worse

Jase opened his eyes.

He opened his eyes and...

Had he opened his eyes?

He couldn't tell, couldn't see.

He blinked.

He had but..

There was no sound?

No sound but the thumping of his own pulse in his ears; no air but the smoke filling his lungs.

He felt the cough in his chest, forcefully releasing any air that may have been trapped, but he couldn't hear it.

He couldn't hear it.

He took a deep breath. A bad choice.

Another round of racking coughs. The taste of metal in his mouth, he spit involuntarily as he attempted to force himself up off of the floor.

Was it the floor? He didn't know, everything was upside down and he couldn't see through the smoke.

Couldn't breath.

Every muscle screamed at him as he pushed, lungs burning as he tried to keep his brain from trying to make him breath.

A voice in the back of his head echoed, "I told you to stop trying to get us killed god damnit!" and he would have chuckled had he the air.

Something grabbed him as he struggled to stand.

He reacted by trying to swing, losing his balance.

Winced, but the floor didn't rise to meet him.

The something...

it was a person. Hands. A face.

A face he knew.

A face he knew streaked with dirt and blood.

Blue eyes.

Cass.

Cass. Thank fucking God.

Thank fucking God It was Cass. She was alive.

He could make out her form now, through the smoke. Her hands were on him, on holding him up from falling, pulling him up to his feet.

She was saying something but he couldn't hear. Couldn't breath to respond. Couldn't breath to respond but the flood of relief flowing through him, the adrenaline, was enough. It was enough to allow himself to stand, drag himself towards the direction she was pulling. Towards the smoke.

Towards the smoke that was clearing, pulled into the open air.

The open air where the wall had been. Air.

One foot in front of the other. Don't breath, don't stop. They stumbled through the fire and the clearing smoke into the open air.

He had never been so grateful for air before, and he sucked in a long, painful breath before collapsing into a heap. He wasn't sure how long it had taken, how long they had moved before they stopped, how long they sat there, how long he spent coughing and spitting up blood before the sound started to return.

At first a high pitched scream, ringing in his head, making him wish he hadn't woken up at all.

He grabbed at his head, curling up into his torso and knees. At least he still had knees. And hands. He wasn't yet sure if he had feet. He wished he didn't have ears. Wished and wished and that voice in his head was back, yelling at him for wishing such stupid things. Or at least that's what he thought it was saying because even his own mind was being drown out by the squealing in his ears.

Slowly. So slowly. Slowly, painfully, and with great relief the ringing faded. Sweet, sweet relief that quickly faded into a sea of nothingness.

* * *

Boone skidded to a halt just inside the smouldering camp. Beside him, Rex whined with worry. He had waited outside by the gate, thankfully. He extended a hand down to him in comfort momentarily.

"Go get Arcade."

The dog huffed at him a moment, glancing at the smoking wreckage in front of them before sprinting off in the direction of Novac. Good. He could focus on finding his friends if he didn't have to also worry about the dog. He turned to face the camp, took a breath, and walked in. The shack was blown wide open and several trailers on the opposite side were nothing more then smoking ruins of twisted metal. Every fiber of his being was on high alert as he began to scan the wreckage for... bodies or blood or any sign of... of... Of Cass dragging Jase out of the burning wreckage of the shack, thank fucking god. Holy shit. He made a beeline in their direction, carefully passing by hunks of smoking wreckage.

"CASS!" He reached out, wrapping his arm around Jase's midsection, "Cass, what the fuck? Are you alright? Is HE alright?"

It took Cass a moment before registering his presence. Instead of responding she just motioned with her head towards the direction of the gate, away from the smoking wreckage. Her right arm hung at her side limply. Boone stored that visual information away for the moment. He nodded, taking the lead as the three of them made their way away from the fire. With every step, Jase felt heavier and Boone wasn't quite sure if it was because Jase was losing consciousness or because Cassidy was.

It didn't matter in the moment. What mattered was keeping them moving long enough to get them to a saftey. The soldier in him knew there could be secondary explosions, and assessed the damage as they passed by. What ever had caused the explosion, it couldn't have been a mine, because they still had legs.

Slowly, they made their way out of the camp, across the broken road to an open patch of land. Then he lowered Jase to the ground and quickly surveyed the damage. Jase began to cough roughly, his whole body shaking as it tried to clear his lungs. No missing limbs, check. He reached out and grabbed at Jase's arms as gently as he could manage. No missing fingers. Legs and feet intact, as he'd thought. Blood streaked down the sides of his head, and the arms were wrenched away from him as Jase curled up into a ball on the ground, gripping at his ears.

Beside him, Cass had slid down to the ground herself, shaking with coughing and unspent adrenaline. She seemed in better shape, grinning at him behind a layer of blackened ash and blood. She leaned to her side and spit blood and a tooth.

"FUCK. I WAS SO PROUD THAT I HADN'T LOST MY TEETH YET. HEY BOONE. GOOD TIMING." Her voice was loud, likely compensation for not being able to hear herself very well. 

He nodded to her, even as he shifted his weight into a full crouch. His eyes slid over to Jase, curled up and whimpering, and it took him every ounce of energy not to wrap him up in his arms. It was bad enough that they had moved him, he knew. To much jostling might make what ever unseen damage there was worse. Instead he turned towards Cass and began checking her over. A few carefully probing moments later, and he heard Cass swear, just as loudly as before.

"DAMNIT THAT HURTS! FUCK, THERE'S SOMETHING IN MY ARM ISN'T THERE?" Instead of looking, she turned her entire face in the opposite direction.

Boone turned her arm towards himself, nodding in confirmation as the shard of.. something, metal perhaps, presented itself, half buried in her forearm and coated in melted clothing. It wasn't free bleeding, thankfully, but he couldn't pull it out. He grimaced towards her, gently shifting her arm again as to not cause excessive pain.

"Fuck, we need a doctor," He hissed under his breath.

"WHAT?"

Boone sighed and then yelled, "WE NEED A DOCTOR!"

"Well, well, well." A voice behind him cause him to jump up to his feet, pointing his rifle in the direction it had come from, "Seems our little mouse trap caught the wrong mouse."

* * *

Arcade was pretty sure he was going to die.

He hadn't run this fast, or this far, in probably close to a dozen years. His lungs were burning, but he couldn't stop. The explosion had been big enough to shake the motel and alert every member of the town. Ahead of him were two guards that had come in with a caravan earlier in the day, and Veronica. Thankfully the Ranger station, which they had all unspokenly decided had been what exploded, wasn't actually all that far away. Thirty minutes walking. Closer to eighteen if you ran, which they had.

He had half convinced himself that he was going to collapse if he didn't slow down. He was going to collapse and die of exhaustion right there on the train tracks. So when he caught sight of Veronica slowing to a stop, he breathed a sigh of thanks. The two men from the caravan had caught up to her fairly quickly. Arcade, on the other hand, plodded the last few steps to the group, huffing, puffing, and quietly cursing himself out for letting himself get so out of shape.

It took him a moment before his brain registered why they had stopped. Rex had run up to them, barking loudly. 

"Rex?" Veronica spoke gently, "Rex, where are Mik and Boone?"

Rex whined, circling the group before turning around to face the direction he'd come from. Arcade swore under his breath. Of course they'd be where the explosion happened. Why wouldn't those two idiots be the exact last place they should be. Fuck.

Veronica gave the robodog a gentle pat, "Shit. Alright, lead the way, bud. We're right behind you."

* * *

Cass watched Boone as he paced back and forth like a caged animal. The whole day couldn't have gone any more more tits up. Literally, in her case, laying in the dry grass cradling her arm. The burning desire to get up and shoot the motherfuckers currently standing over her didn't help. They were not so quietly making fucked up comments to each other about what sort of prize they'd won. Legion. Their leader, a weaselly little man wearing a wolf pelt on his head, was crouched over Mik. She needed a drink.

Wolfhead gently pat Mik on the shoulder before standing, "Still alive, good. What are we going to do with you, hmm? Caesar isn't going to be pleased at this turn of events. You there, soldier..."

Cass knew at once Wolfhead had made the wrong choice. Boone's eyes snapped towards him, and the expression on his face spoke volumes. Quickly, quickly before things deteriorated any farther, she spoke up. "Wait! Wait, Mister Wolfhead, you don't wanna talk to that one. You wanna talk to me."

The man standing closest to her spit on the ground, "Shut your whore mouth, slave."

Cass readied herself for the inevitable kick to the ribs, but didn't stop, "No, no, seriously. You want to talk to me. He's mute, and.." she swallowed back a bit of bile, "and Master trusts me to speak when he can't." Fuck. If they got out of this alive and unscathed, Mikki owed her a whole fuckload more then a bottle of whiskey.

Wolfhead chuckled, "Master eh? Alright, I'll humor you." He gave a second glance to Boone, who had stopped staring at the man and started staring at the gun they'd relieved him of.

Cass shifted her position, sitting up and cradling her wounded arm. She didn't know the deal with Boone, but she sure as shit knew the look the man was wearing. Not that she blamed him, but it would be far better for them to survive this then all end up dead because the kid snapped.

Wolfhead walked towards her, cupping a hand under her chin. It took every ounce of willpower not to pull the knife stashed in her boot and just fucking gut him right then and there for touching her. Instead she forced herself to stay very still.

"What were you doing in our little trap, mouse?"

She swallowed hard, fucking damnit she needed a drink, and said, "We were on our way to regroup with our.. his, his team. Noticed that the ranger station was quiet. You know the master, always looking for an opportunity to resupply off the back of NCR.." she let herself chuckle, because she was _absolutely_ going to punch Mikki straight in the fucking face if they survived this.

Wolfhead tugged on her chin, forcing her to go silent, then turned her face to one side, appraising her. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, directed only at her, "I've heard the stories, yes. You want me to believe you're his slave and not his associate. Smart, in front of my men, but I'm not dumb enough to believe it. What I do believe, is that you aren't lying. Not completely anyway."

Every word out of Wolfhead's mouth dripped with contempt, slick and sleazy. It caused her to shiver involuntarily and that pissed her off. Whoever this guy was, it was very clear he wasn't some rank and file moron in costume. He was far more dangerous.

She forced herself smile.

"No sir," She spoke loud enough for everyone, especially the gun toting idiots guarding Boone, to hear, "Master Mikaelson wouldn't want me to lie, sir."

"No, I suppose he wouldn't," Wolfhead's hand fell away from her face and she silently thanked fuck that it had, because it was making her skin crawl, "You say you were heading back to.. his.. crew. How many?"

She swallowed hard, "I'm not sure. At..at least three. He came to pick me up at the border, I haven't met'm yet."

Wolfhead slid his arms behind his back, pacing in front of her, "At least three. And you say the soldier is a mute?"

"Former sir," She let her voice drop to a whisper, " and No.. but he won't talk to you. He has his reasons," Her eyes slid over to Boone. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Wolfhead nodding in acknowledgement of her words. NCR First Recon, former or not, would sooner die then speak to a member of the Legion.

She spoke louder this time, trying to keep the momentum, "Master Mikaelson says there's nothing better then a mute bodyguard." She hoped he managed to pick up the intention of the lie through the haze of red he was probably seeing. Boone simply nodded in her direction with out ceasing his pacing or relaxing his fists.

Behind her, somewhere, one of the Legion fuckboys muttered something about how mute whores were better, but before she could open her mouth to do any real damage, Wolfhead silenced the chatter with a gesture.

"Are these three others expecting you?"

"Yes sir. We sent the dog ahead to alert them of our arrival."

"Dog?" Wolfhead paused mid step, turning in her direction.

"Yes sir, Master's..." a low growl interrupted her words, and she shifted her gaze in it's direction. Never, in her life, had she ever been so happy to see a dog. Or the man standing next to the dog, wearing a lab coat.


	17. Rolling Stones

At least his head didn't hurt.

He'd woken up the first time about half way across the lake, surrounded by men in armor and being tutted over by one blonde, distraught doctor. There were worse things to wake up to, he reckoned. Took a few moments to realize that the armored men were Legionaries and the hot blonde was Arcade. 

Then, he revised his thoughts. 

Worse places to wake up? Might not be that many. Legionaries meant every sort of bad. Arcade alive meant possibly less bad, but not by much if you let your imagination run away with it. He tried not to. If he did he might end up dead. Fuckin, Legionaries would probably be dead too, but if there was even a chance Boone and the others were alright...

Best he lay there with his eyes closed, suss out what was happening.

The next time he woke, it was in no small part to the searing pain burning through his ribcage as he was dropped onto a cot inside some kind of tent. Fucking god dammit! He curled up on himself, spitting cusses into the air and swatting away the hands that attempted to, fuckin, he didn't know, help maybe.

Fuck them. Fuck being touched and fuck the burning in his lungs and God almighty could fuck right off too. He was pretty sure he was yelling, but also he really didn't give a single fuck if he was or not. He just wanted whoever was trying to touch him to stop, because he couldn't fucking breath.

Someone was yelling at him. Fuck them. Then they shut the fuck up, or maybe they didn't. Maybe he hadn't been awake at all. Maybe there had never been pain. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he had never been alive. That was fine. Man though, he was so fucking glad that his head didn't hurt.

The third time he woke, it took him a few moments of blinking, staring up at what was probably a ceiling of some kind, to come to grips with the idea that he wasn't dead. He was pretty sure he should be. He'd been dead before. 

Or, no, he hadn't been. He'd just been almost dead a couple different times. Once in Goodsprings, once at the horrible horrible place with the robo-brains... and again, now, he supposed. Was starting to think the Mojave hated him or something. 

It took him a few more moments to remember that his head should probably hurt. Or, no, again he remembered that the Auto doc in Big MT had fixed that too. What the sam hell was he supposed to feel then?

Confusion? He had that covered in fucking spades. Also he was a little bit hungry. Was pretty sure if he voiced _that_ aloud someone was bound to punch him in the goddamned face, so probably best not to. What he did know was, he wasn't dead, his head didn't hurt, and was inside some place.

Once he managed to get that much together, he chanced a look around. His eyes landed on the form of an Arcade Gannon, asleep while sitting up in a chair next to him. Took him a second to process why he hadn't heard him snoring. Another piece of the ‘what the actual fuck is happening’ puzzle sliding into place.

There’d been an explosion, a stray grenade. Folks had been alright, but maybe he hadn’t been. Legion had shown up? He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around that part. Nor the part where Arcade came in. Or where the hell Boone and Cass were.

He’d have to ask. Later. When Arcade wasn’t snoring. The sound was clear as crystal now. He'd just needed the moment to register that his ears still worked. Or worked again, maybe.

Kinda cute. Likely if he voiced that thought out loud he’d get punched, so he decided to keep that one to himself. Instead, he half wondered if he ought to wake the blonde doctor up.He snorted, trying to swallow a laugh when it hit him just how many cute blondes he knew lately. 

Then, winced cause goddammit his head might not hurt but his ribs sure as fucking did. Grabbed his side and bit down on the stream of swears trying to escape, letting himself take a few slow but shallow breaths to test the waters of how much damage there was. 

Probably a couple cracked ribs. Nothing punctured for sure, thank fuck. Sore though, probably gonna be tender for a while. Half wondered how long he'd been out while he was laying there trying to suss out exactly how bad it was. 

Fucking, hand grenade. Who the fuck tucks hand grenades into a drawer with its pin rigged to be pulled when it opened? The goddamned Legion, most like. Shitty underhanded tactics by shitty underhanded cowards. Fuckin..

They'd been trying to figure out why the NRC outpost had gone quiet, right? Yeah. Yeah, but all they’d found was that goddamned hand grenade. Which meant that.. fuck him, was Cass alright? Goddammit. 

He knew Craig was okay, could remember getting helped out of the wreckage by him. Couldn't remember anything after though. Sure as shit didn't remember how the fuck he got here and with Arcade. Not that he minded particularly, least it was someone he knew. Someone he trusted.

Just about the time he finished with that line of thinking, he heard a sound. Like rustling cloth. Looked up to see what was causing the sound and was hit face first with daylight. Fucking god dammit, it was bright. 

Took him a moment or two to register what that meant. At least day time then. Once he blinked back the blindness that the lord was oh-so-generous to bestow upon his eyes, he made out a form with a...

Was that a fucking dogs head on that guys.. head? "Uh.. don't take this the wrong way, friend, but you uh.. gotta.. thing, on your.." Jase gestured around his own head, then let his arm drop back to his side, "Nevermind... you probably know."

The figure with the Dog hat smirked. Or at least Jase thought he smirked. Probably, but coulda been a real smile. Was hard to tell, dog hat guy was wearing sunglasses. More details were becoming clear now that the sun had been safely tucked back behind the flap of cloth and the lithe man standing in front of him.

Legion. He’d been right. Almost felt ashamed, had been hoping he was wrong for a change. He never was though. Not that he’d say that out loud in front of any of the ladies. Pretty sure if he did Veronica would punch him straight back to the time before the bombs.

Which meant that Craig might not be safe after all, and the very thought caused his stomach to drop. Arcade seemed alright, still asleep from the quick glance shifted that way. So maybe not? He didn't know and couldn't without asking. Sure as fuck wasn't gonna ask Dog head guy. Not that he had a chance. Dog head guy was talking.

"Ave to Caesar, Courier Six. It's good to see you finally awake. Shame our first two meetings couldn't have been this.. comfortable." Dog head guy gestured towards the cot Jase was on. 

The guys voice was.. he didn't even fucking know but it sent shivers down his spine and not in a good way. If words were things that appeared in the air like them old time comics then Dog head guys would've been dripping with grease. Slimy. Dangerous. Not to be fucked with.

He knew. Knew this one guy in front of him was the most dangerous motherfucker he'd ever encountered in his life. More then House, more then his pops.. the situation had just turned real fucking dangerous. Not good. 

So Jase did what Jase did best.

He smiled, "Pardon me, Sir. I'd get up and great you real polite and all, but I'm in a bit of pain. Also seems I've misplaced my hat?” Jase took a slow, steady breath, as if the very notion of having lost his hat was far more distressing then the rest of the situation. 

He hesitated mid gesture towards his hatless head, before shaking it and waving his hand in dismissal, “Nevermind that though. Might I inquire as to whom I am addressin', good sir?"

Dog head man with the sunglasses smiled right back. It sent another shiver down his spine, and on reflex he shifted his gaze over towards the sleeping Arcade. Still asleep, unfortunately.

"Vulpes Inculta, if a name is required. I lead Caesar's Frumentarii." The man gave pause, Jase reading as annoyance, "Currently, I have been asked to make sure you are comfortable."

"You have?” Jase let his eyebrow and a half raise in mock surprise. He’d figured if he was still alive it was likely because Caesar thought him useful. Better to play up the idea of shock then give Dog head a leg up, though.

“Well, I suppose It's a pleasure to meet you, then, Vulpes Inculta,” and Jase extended his hand. He didn’t bother to correct the man. If he wanted to refer him to his job title, that suited Jase just fine. He didn’t want the man in front of him to know his name. 

What he wanted was to put a goddamned bullet in between dog head's eyes. He also wanted to live long enough to get himself and Arcade to safety. Wanted to find out if Craig and Cass were alright. Wanted to do a thousand things that he couldn't do if he attempted to kill the fucker in front of him.

So he just kept on smiling, "Guessin if I'm still alive then Caesar's offer still stands?"

Dog head, Vulpes, nodded, "Mhm. My master wishes to speak with you in private, once your, Doctor, has cleared you." The man gestured toward Arcade, who absolutely wasn't fucking sleeping anymore. Not that dog head would know, but Jase did.

He knew because he knew Arcade well enough now to tell when the man was faking it. Arcade wasn’t snoring anymore. His posture had changed, and Jase could just make out the blue beneath the nearly closed eyelids. Thank fuck.

Once sunglasses weirdo walked away he could have a real conversation with someone sane. Or at least more fucking sane then whatever the fuck dog head was. He remembered Nipton. The man was bad news. Had half a mind to decline the offer, walk away, gather up his friends, and hightail it the fuck out of the Mojave altogether. Wasn't like he needed the money.

Dog head was waiting for an answer, even though there hadn't been a question asked. Well, not outright. The question was weather or not Jase was healthy enough to walk however far the fuck Caesar's tent was. Jase assumed that it couldn't be terribly far. He doubted Caesar would have requested his presence if it was. So he nodded, and smiled.

"I'm sure I'm gonna be fine, but as you said, should consult with my doctor first. Can't be too careful these days. Might get shot in the head," He smirked, "But, not a lot of doin' that till he wakes up. Spose it was a long night for him. I feel pretty good for havin been blown up, after all. So I'll let him sleep. You can tell your Caesar that we'll be good'n ready to be seen later this afternoon."

Yep. Smiling was easy. Smiling was easy and it was already pretty fucking clear that whatever Caesar's reasons, Jase was gonna be relatively safe. At least so long as he didn't outright tell the guy to fuck off. Which he absolutely fucking intended to do, but not quite yet. 

No, instead he gave Dog head a smile. The best shit eating he could muster, and dropped a wink right on top of that too. Keep'm unsettled. Unsure of how to act around him. He sure as shit didn't want them getting comfortable.

Dog head nodded his head in return, "Then I will let you rest. Please do ask for assistance should it be required, there will be guards posted outside your tent. For your own safety of course. Your weapons have been confiscated. They will be returned to you on the whim of Caesar and not one moment before."

Fuck. Good to know. He nodded, "Smart."

It was Dog heads turn to grin, and it took every ounce of willpower in him not to shove a fist into the man's twisted face. "Yes."

Jase had never felt so fucking glad in his life when dog head finally dipped himself back out of the goddamned tent.

* * *

Pacing was easy.

Pacing was easier than thinking.

Pacing was easier than letting his thoughts overwhelm him.

Pacing back and forth kept his mind focused and centered on the task at hand.

Pacing back and forth in the mouth of the dinosaur meant he was being productive instead of worrying.

Pacing back and forth in the mouth of the dinosaur meant he was being productive instead of thinking about how he should have gone with him. Should have killed them all. Should have done something. Anything other than let the Legion walk off with Jase and Arcade. Anything other than that. And if he stopped pacing, those kinds of thoughts were going to swallow him whole.

If he died... if, if Jase died, because of him. Because time was well past up and time was going to keep taking from him until he gave himself up to it.. if..

Pacing was easy.

One, two, three, four.

Turn.

One, two, three, four.

Like marching, except for back and forth instead of in a straight line.

Nothing was a straight line anymore. Every single thing pissed him off. Everything that wasn't Jase shaped. He knew. He KNEW. He knew he should be more worried about Cassidy then Jase. Jase was Jase and could handle it.

He had seen how well Jase could handle shit over the last few weeks. Jase was a tough son of a bitch, tougher then most of the guys he'd come up with. Tougher than he himself most of the time. but that didn't mean..

No, it meant that he'd be fine. He would be fine and someone needed to spot for the town, give Andy a break. The guy was a wreck. The whole Ranger station had been wiped out, even before they'd gotten there. The few bodies they had found had been mostly mutilated. Sick fucks. 

Andy was a mess, and Boone didn't blame him. All those people, friends of his, just.. Gone forever because sick fucks in fucking kilts decided to play at army life. Gone and tortured and set back up like nothing had happened. The explosion had just been some kind of sick trap to catch out more. The Legion were fucking sick. Nipton sick. 

Jase had told him, one night when they'd been on watch, about what had gone down at Nipton. Bodies lining the street, the mountain of burning dead, and the Legion at the center. Smug and sick and preaching their methods of perfection like.. like, he didn't even know. No one was that sick. None that he'd encountered. Even raiders had their reasons for being depraved. Legion just..

Just...

He stopped pacing, pulling his cap free from his head. Rubbed the palm of his hand against the fuzz there, over and over. In frustration as much as needing to feel something against his skin. Something to keep himself grounded in the moment and not drowning in memories. 

Miss Cass was gonna be alright, and Jase was a tough son of a bitch and would be alright. Arcade was with him, and Arcade was smart. Smarter then he was for damned sure. Arcade would keep Jase healthy and Jase would talk his way out of trouble.

He just.. he just needed to focus on the now and not worry about it. Not let himself worry about it. Not get himself in knots until there was nothing left to do but run off to Cottonwood and get himself dead.

Wasn't sure how long he'd stood there, not pacing. Rubbing the palm of his hand over the top of his head, beret hooked on his pinky. Didn't matter. What mattered is he had a job to do and so long as he did that job he would be alright. He'd be alright and he'd be the first to see them when they came back.

Yes. He would be the first to see that stupid fucking cowboy hat and that stupid fucking grin.

* * *

It hadn't been very long. On a few, desperate heartbeats before Arcade had popped up out of his chair and quickly began digging through his medical supplies. The Legion had provided him far more than had been necessary to patch Mik back up, small favors from the devil he suspected, and after a few moments of scrambling he came out with a fresh roll of bandages and a stim.

What ever traces of exhaustion might be dogging him had all but slipped away the moment he'd woken up to the voice of Vulpes. The man had left them in the tent the previous night with mountains of medical supplies and a warning.

_Fix him._

Thankfully their illustrious leader hadn't been seriously hurt. He wasn't quite sure how but the man never seemed to get seriously hurt. It tickled the scientist in him, made him itch to want to lock Mik up and study him to figure out how the hell the man managed to survive things other people would absolutely die of. They didn't have time, though, or the safety. Not yet. Soon maybe, once everything else was handled. 

"Are you alright?" he hissed quietly as he made his way over. Mik's face was pale, and Arcade couldn't tell if it was from the strain of breathing with fractured ribs or from having to deal with the likes of Vulpes Inculta.

He wouldn't exactly blame the man for being ruffled. Most Legionaries were box-of-rocks, rank and file morons ready to throw their lives away for some bullshit dogma. Vuples Inculta was not one of those men. Just listening to him speak was enough to unsettle.

Mik, shifting on the cot and clearly uncomfortable, nodded, "Yeap. Just fuckin peachy. Never better. Guessin my ribs are fucked?"

Arcade felt himself smile, regardless of the situation, "Fractured. Nothing some rest won't fix. Though," He brandished the stim, uncapping and flicking the needle for effect, "I very much doubt that's in our foreseeable future. So, as your doctor, I recommend we get you moving, figure out what the fuck Caesar wants from you, and then get the hell out so you _can_ rest."

Mik winced at the sight of the needle. Good, the last thing Arcade needed was for tall, lean and handsome to get used to needles. Not that he would ever, ever, ever admit that he found Mik attractive. Well, not a second time anyway. 

No. Best he never pursues that line of thinking ever again, lest it get him into real trouble. He liked living a lot more than he liked the idea of pinning the cowboy to a wall. Also it absolutely was the worst possible time to be having those kinds of thoughts even if he did want to entertain them, which he absolutely didn't. It was irreverent.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Lets.. ah, do you really need to? Shit!" Mik hissed as Arcade stabbed him mid sentence. Whatever satisfaction Arcade might have gotten from the noise would have to wait for another time. Preferably one where they weren't in the middle of the Legion encampment, surrounded by an army ready to kill them at a moments notice.

"That's going to sting for a little bit. Once it's kicked in you should be good to go. Twenty minutes, give or take. Just.. promise me something?"

Mik frowned up at him, though that was more likely from the shot then from anything Arcade had said up until then, "Dunno Doc, gonna stab me again if I don't?"

"This is serious, Mik," He sighed, settling down in the chair next to the cot to pull back the bandages wrapping the man's torso. He needed to make sure the idiot hadn't popped the stitches he'd put in a few hours prior. Not that there were many, but there were enough. He also needed to know, now that they'd actually managed to get to the Legion's encampment, that he hadn't been lying.

"Leme see if I can guess. You wanna know if what I said was true. About all this?" Mik's words were vague as he gestured to the general vicinity.

Arcade nodded slowly. Yes. All of this. He'd agreed to help, if it meant helping the people of the Mojave. A lot of things could be considered help, though. He needed.. reassurance that the man he'd chosen to follow was as truthful as he seemed.

"Real easy to come up with half assed excuses why bein' a piece of shit's easier'n bein responsible," Mik was wearing that shit eating grin of his and Arcade needed to take three heartbeat's to remind himself not to punch the man. Or kiss him. Or punch him. It didn't matter.

Mik continued, "Good thing I ain't that, eh? Lotta chances in my life to hurt folks for no good reason. Saw first hand what kind of man comes outta that, not real interested in it. Helpin folks who are just tryin to get along always felt better anyway."

Arcade frowned at the words coming from the grinning cowboy. Why not the NCR then? Or House? Sure neither were great options, but none of them were the worst choices either. Both would help the Mojave prosper, "Why not..?"

"The others?" Mik placed his hand upon Arcade's shoulder, leaned into him, and whispered, "Cause evil is evil is evil. Choosin' ain't really choosin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive I swear! This story is as well! It's just taken a little bit of a back seat to exhaustion and people juggling >.< Updates will come, now that I've figured out how to balance new and improved life-stuff :)


	18. Robots

Honestly, he was impressed. The sheer fuckin stupidity of the whole goddamned situation was impressive. It took him a full, solid minute of staring at the closed door he had just been shoved through to really wrap his mind around the situation. Just.. impressive.

He shook his head at the absurdity of it all before releasing his grip on his pack. They’d stuffed it, and his rifle into his hands before stuffing him into the vault’s entrance. His ribs were still tender, but he needed to check. Needed to make sure the Legion fucks hadn’t ruined his rifle.

With that, he slowly lowered himself to the concrete flooring and began to sort through the varying items in his pack. All the while continuing to play and replay the conversation he’d had with Caesar over and over in his head.

The long and short of the conversation was that the man, Caesar, had wanted him to destroy the bunker that House had so badly wanted him to activate. It had been very clear to Jase that Caesar was convinced that he could be easily manipulated. As it had been clear that House thought he could be bought.

Jase shook his head as he pulled apart his gun, checking each piece carefully for inconsistencies. Blowing out any lingering dirt. Carefully cleaning and reassembling. There were many kinds of men in the world, but Jase’s loyalty had never been bought and could hardly be manipulated.

Hell, the NCR was likely banking on his previously shown loyalty as well. He hadn’t been to talk to them yet, but he had the gut feeling that they were going to attempt a similar ploy. Which, if he were honest with himself, was probably the only faction vying for power here that had half a chance in hell to talk him into it.

Shame he’d already made up his mind eh?

He had no more love for NCR then he had for House, and no love at all for Legion. They had all miscalculated him, underestimated him. Jase Mikaelson was no fool. Could not be bought nor manipulated. Would not sell his soul. Any part of him left that might have died in the Boneyard two years prior.

He would not sell out the Mojave to the NCR or Legion. Would not allow it to succumb to Old World thinking, like House. He’d been to the Big MT. Seen what horrors the Old world could unleash. And as he slid the last pieces of his rifle into place, reaffirmed within himself the solution he, they, had come to.

They, his small family. The people of the Mojave who he’d accidentally, incidentally, and unintentionally collected along the way. He wouldn’t trade them for the world, and that meant he wouldn’t trade the Mojave either. It meant he would fight for it. Freedom, independence. A real chance to allow it to grow on its own.

With his rifle thoroughly cleaned and carefully reconstructed, he stood and made his way over to the console. He hated computers so goddamn much, and he let himself mutter a few colorful phrases under his breath as he punched in the combination of keystrokes provided to him. After a moment the screen in front of him flickered into the static visage of one Robert House.

“Ah, Mr. Mikaelson. I see you’ve reached your destination safely. Shall we get to work?”

Jase allowed himself to smile, unsure if there were any cameras in the vicinity or not. Couldn’t risk showing just how House’s slimy politician voice grated on his nerves. No. Instead he tipped his hat in greeting, “Caesar wants this place destroyed.”

The unchanging face of House sounded off, “But you’re not going to do that, are you, Mr. Mikaelson.”

The smugness behind those words. Hadn’t even been poised as a question. Almost tempted him into doing it just to see what would happen. Almost, “No sir, don’t rightly think it’d be in my best interest to let Caesar have what he wants. Few to many folk ‘round here would look awful poor as slaves.”

“That’s why I hired you, Mr. Mikaelson. Because you do the smart thing. Now, as you already know, the platinum chip upgrades my securitrons operating software. What you didn’t know, is that there is an army’s worth in that bunker with you.”

Jase let himself smile a little wider. Just what he needed, an army, all conveniently packaged and waiting for orders. Whatever else the day might have looked like, that bit of information made it all worthwhile.

House was still talking, “I need you to manually upload the data from the chip into this facilities primary computer. Doing so will install the upgrades into every Securitron in the system, including all of the ones sitting beneath Caesar’s precious forward camp.”

Jase nodded slowly, “Assuming I can’t just do it from here right? Nothin’s that easy.”

“Correct. There should be a terminal at the far end of the bunker that you can use to access the network.”

He sighed. Of course he’d have to get through the place first. Likely there would be defenses too. Ones he probably couldn’t just turn off, not that he was particularly good at making computers do what he wanted them to do half the time anyway.

“Alrighty, I’ll head on in then. Think Casesar’ll notice an army of robots poppin up under his feet?” Jase slung his pack up over his shoulder as he asked, eyeballing the doorway.

“No, if only because they’ll stay dormant until I call for them. I have the utmost confidence that you can convince the man that everything went as smoothly as he expects it to.”

He sighed. Of course he would expect him to clean up after. It would be a goddamned pleasure to take the robot man’s caps before he put a bullet in his brain.. Cpu… whichever. With another nod, he pressed the button to open the door “Right. Well, see you soon enough. Sir,” and headed on in.

* * *

Arcade turned, looking down the hill one last time as they made their way out of Cottonwood. How they had managed to survive that, any of it, was nothing short of an actual miracle. They had been dragged to the Legion’s main camp under threat of death, and left under their own steam. One of these days he was going to figure out how, exactly, the stupid stubborn ~~handsome~~ _asshole_ managed to survive these types of insane situations. Not just survive. Thrive.

It was going to drive him insane or he was going to find out the man was secretly some kind of old world superhero or something.

“You can always stay, if it’s so hard to leave.”

Arcade turned to look up the hill at Mik. The cowboy was standing with his hands hooked into his belt loop, haloed by the sun cresting over the hill. Like some kind of painting. Arcade smirked, the image in front of him was doing nothing to dissuade his illogical thought process, and shook his head, “Funny.”

Mik grinned back at him, “I mean it. It's real pretty in the Legion camp aint it? With all them strapping young men in varying levels of.. what ever the sam hell they're wearing."

Arcade snorted as he picked up the pace, jogging the last few steps to catch up with the man, "Yeah, all muscles and no free will. Real attractive."

Mik chuckled, "There's merit to bein dumb and pretty. I ain't seen it work out, but sure as heck an enjoyable view either way."

He took the moment to really soak in the thought, and laughed, "I'm sure you're right. Thankfully no one we know is actually all brick and no mortar. Even your soldier boy."

Mik grasped at his chest, then winced, as if realizing he was still injured. It caused the chuckle to come out more of a pained wheeze. "Speakin of handsome soldier boys who are smarter then they look, we gotta pick up the pace. Gonna take a good day or two to get back, and I’m sure Craig's losing his damned mind, right about now. Know I would be.”

Arcade rolled his eyes at the cowboy as they started walking again, “I’m sure he is, especially considering what it was you promised Caesar you’d do for him.”

Mik chuckled, “What, kill House? Kinda already planned on doin that anyway. King Shitface can believe I’m doin it for him all he likes. Just means when I show up in force with my new shiny robot army and one pissed off Craig Boone, he won't see it commin.”

Arcade shook his head, “I still can’t wrap my head around it all. You actually activated them?”

Mik nodded, even as he draped an arm casually around Arcade’s shoulders, “I did. Can’t protect the Mojave from wackjobs like Caesar or Kimball without an army of our own, right?”

Arcade gave Mik a side glance and smirk, “Fair enough, I suppose. Though doesn’t that make getting to House more difficult?”

Mik laughed, “Probably, but I think we might have a brilliant doctor and also an actual member of the brotherhood in our back pocket. I ain’t terribly worried about it.”

Arcade blinked, not that he didn’t appreciate the compliment, but it took him by surprise that Mik had so readily picked up on Veronica's situation. It was hard to remember sometimes that Mik was nearly as intelligent as himself, if not more perceptive. 

“Guessin I ain’t supposed to know that bit yet eh? I figure she’ll tell me when she’s ready.” That shit eating grin. Once more he found himself chastising his own thoughts about the man. Mik wasn't available and it was stupid to get so overtly attached. He needed to put a little bit of distance between them, before he did something stupid. Like hit him. Because that was a rational response to a smug asshole. Instead of wanting to kiss him. Which was absolutely not the proper response. Arcade squirmed out from beneath Mik’s arm and picked up his pace. 

Mik's reaction to his sudden change of pace was to chuckle, adjusting his pack as he continued to walk and talk, “It ain’t like I got room to be judging how folks were raised or by whom. Met my fair share of vault dwellers and such, they ain’t like how Brotherhood tend to be. Spec she doesn't rightly like it there, otherwise she’d be there.”

Arcade shook his head, “I’m just surprised you picked up on it. No one else seems to have.” Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he wondered what else Mik may have gleaned. About the others. About himself.

Mik's expression was soft, the shit eating grin settling into a comfortable smile. They walked in silence for a while, as if Mik was ruminating in his own thoughts. Before long though, he turned back towards Arcade and winked, “ Haven't figured it out yet? I’m just full of surprises, Doc.”


End file.
